


Change Can Be a Good Thing

by Skadisdottir



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective! Steve Rogers, Reader is kind of an academic Badass, Slow Burn, Tony Feels Guilty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-09-19 09:48:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20329153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skadisdottir/pseuds/Skadisdottir
Summary: Reader's relationship with a boyfriend of 3 years has grown stale. A chance encounter with Steve Rogers late at night at a gym sparks a friendship that promises to pull her out of the monotony of her daily life.





	1. A Change

For the third night in a row, you laid back on the bed the two of you shared and stared up at the ceiling as he rutted and grunted against you. His breath, stinking of beer whispered hot and sticky on your neck, the words meant to turn you on only bored you and you wanted nothing more than to shove him off of you and claim a headache. But you didn’t, you made the necessary noises and responded to his words in kind, finally faking your finish as he did.

Your boyfriend of the last three years rolled off of you at that and pulled you close to his chest, his head burrowing into your hair as he drifted off to sleep. You rolled your eyes and carefully pulled yourself out from his grip making your way to the bathroom that adjoined your room. The light turned on as the door closed and you examined your neck. Small red marks dotted it and you rolled your eyes again. _Can’t even give you a hickey correctly_. You mused, grabbing a hairbrush and brushed out the tangles he made in your hair.

It’s not that you didn’t love him... once. You did when you met, it was all clashing teeth and stolen kisses in the kitchen of a friend’s party. But you were now 23 and it was starting to become stale. He worked a minimum effort job in the financial district of New York, and you were working on a degree in communications at New York University. It was both of your last years at university, and it was painfully obvious from the sudden drop in funds that he had bought a ring and was planning on proposing.

You had wrestled with yourself for hours with it before, but this was the final straw. You had to leave him. He just wasn’t right for you, neither of you were teenagers anymore, but only one of you had grown up. And she was staring back at you in the mirror.

You adjusted the sports bra you had been wearing, which he hadn’t even bothered to take off and pulled on a pair of workout shorts. Sure, it was 3 o'clock in the morning, but a workout was exactly what you needed despite the night’s activities. You grabbed your gym bag and slipped out of the bathroom, the bedroom, and then the front door.

Your car was parked outside, the silver corolla which your father had given you as a gift when you had gotten into NYU. It was all you could afford at the moment, despite the full scholarship and generous fact that your boyfriend’s parents paid for your rent. You were living paycheck to paycheck as it was, barista-ing was not a well paying job.

The bag thumped into the seat beside you and you started the engine, letting it idle for a moment to let the air conditioning start coughing to life. You let out a sigh with the car and laid your head on the steering wheel. If you really wanted to leave him, you needed to find a place to stay until you got a place of your own, and with the limited money you had already, that was not exactly going to be an easy feat. Your hand hovered over your phone, wanting to call your father, but thought better of it. If you were going to do this, you were going to do it on your own. That’s how you always did things, and that’s what you were going to do. Pulling out of the parking space and driving down the nearly deserted road to your gym you set your face in a determined line.

  
The gym was empty save for an employee that looked to be half asleep at the desk and you almost wondered who they pissed off to be assigned the night shift. You smiled a halfhearted smile before wandering to the back and into a corner of an empty room.

You zoned out then, going through the stretches you had done a thousand times before, all the while staring blankly ahead of you. The tension in your muscles started to release and a breath you didn’t know you were holding left you with a sigh. The machines were next and you went through an arm, chest, and ab workout, but you still felt the strain of your heart weighing on you, so you moved to the squat rack next to the mirror.

You saw someone else had entered the gym during your set and was punching at a bag. You glanced at him for a moment, but determining that he wasn’t a threat to anyone but the bag, you continued, racking up a few 45s to start. It was half of what you normally could do, but you didn’t want to overdo something. Turning to face the room, you brought the bar onto your shoulders and began the set, counting to 10 between each rep, letting the bag bring you back to yourself on your shoulders.

You had just gone through your third set when you noticed the man sheepishly waving, a warm smile on his face. Re-racking the bar you pulled an earbud out and smiled, wiping at the sweat on your face with the towel you brought with you. “Sorry, did you say something?” You asked, not realizing how tired your voice sounded until you spoke.

“I was wondering if I could use this with you between sets?” He said and you nodded, moving out of the way and pulling the brace off in order to add weight for him.

“How much?” You asked, going to grab another set of 45s from the side of the rack. He rubbed the back of his neck almost nervously before moving back to a pile of punching bags you hadn’t seen before and hooked one on either side.

“Bullshit” the words left your mouth before you could stop them and he just laughed before readying himself under the bar. “That has to be at least 350 pounds there is no way-” But before you could finish, he easily lifted it onto his shoulders, and busted out a quick ten reps, then moving around the rack to pull off the bags, resetting it to your weight.

“335, actually just about. Not my max but enough to get the blood moving.” He said easily, taking a drink of his water. You just stared, but he motioned to the rack and you shook out of it easily, returning to the rack, adding a 10 to each side, bringing your rack up to a grand total of 155.

The last two sets of your workout burnt you out, but the man in front of you increased his total up to 400 before calling it done. You watched in amazement as this man who was probably no more than 250 pounds solid muscle himself lifted twice and then some of your max. It was kind of incredible and you told him as much as you began packing your stuff and moving toward the shower.

He just shrugged, dabbing at the minimal sweat on his brow. He then suddenly stopped and extended his hand. “I’m... sorry I never gave you my name. Its uh.. Steve.” He seemed hesitant to give you his name but you ignored it, returning the gesture and giving your name. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You found yourself blushing but hid it well behind the flush of a workout. A growl from your stomach had you looking at your watch, it was nearly 5 am, and you were starving. “You wouldn’t want to grab breakfast would you?” You risked, indicating with a thumb to the door. He smiled politely but sighed.

“I would love to, but I have a meeting this morning, rain check?” He asked, and you nodded happily. You dug your phone out of the bag and handed it to him. He punched in a number into your phone and you did the same with his. You teased him slightly at the outdated nature of his old Iphone and he just rolled his eyes goodhearted.

The two of you parted ways to shower and you felt contented at a new friend. Suddenly your heart didn’t feel as heavy and you found yourself singing along quietly to the music on your phone as you showered.

Maybe it was the clarity given to you by the shower, but you felt like you knew this “Steve” from somewhere. The thought kept up as you stepped out of the shower and dried off, using the supplied hair dryer to keep your (h/c) locks from drenching everything else you wore and the seats of your car.

You opened your phone to check the contact that had just been added and saw that Steve had put his name in as “Steve (Gym Guy)”. You snorted to yourself. _Like you wouldn’t remember who he was_. Nevertheless, you smiled, then pushed your phone back into your pocket and finished adjusting your outfit. It was simple, a pair of denim shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt that tied in the front. It was supposed to be hot in New York today, and you didn’t plan on sweating your way through the morning.

The coffee shop you always stopped at was just opening as you walked through the door, greeting the old Tunisian woman behind the counter in poor Arabic, but she laughed, shaking her head. “ _Sabah al-Kheir_” She corrected and you clicked your tongue, repeating it. “You are learning, my friend.” She said as she moved slowly behind the counter.

“Trying!” You responded sitting to wait. “Someday I’ll have a whole conversation with you.” You said happily, scanning the case for a treat for the morning.

“_Inshallah_”. She said nodding and you tilted your head. “It means ‘God Willing’.” She laughed and you pouted. “If you are going to learn the language, you may as well know what we say daily.” She said wagging a finger as she pushed your coffee towards you.

“Can I get one of those too?” You said pointing to a Baklava point at the front of the shelf. Farah, nodded, but moved to the back of the counter and opened one of the ovens and cut a fresh piece for you. You smiled in thanks and moved toward the register.

“_La_, no.” She said as you handed her the money. “I don’t want it.” She said shooing your hand from her.

“Farah,” you said in exasperation. “I’m not going to take this for free.” You said stubbornly.

“Yes, you are. Because I told you to, and I don’t want your money.” She clasped your hand in hers and turned the fingers back onto your palm and held them tightly between her wrinkled ones. “You are a sweet girl. And I know a hurting heart when I see one.” She said quietly. You stared at her dumbfounded. How could she possibly know? She smiled in response and pushed your hand away from her.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, suddenly your heart did in fact feel tight, and your eyes felt hot. She smiled again and turned, giving you a moment to recompose yourself before you turned on your heel and walked out of the store and back to your car. The ride back was quiet, your eyes focusing on nothing as you drove home on autopilot,thinking through your next plan of action.


	2. A Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prior planning is not really your forte.

As you arrived home, you found the apartment empty and you looked around confused. A slip of paper lay on the table and you picked it up as you finished off the last of the rich Arabic coffee. 

_ Babe, _

_ Gone on a weekend trip with the guys. Decided last second last night, forgot to tell you. Won’t be back until Sunday night. See you then, don’t wait up. _

GOD you wanted to to kill him. You were always a second thought to him and it was infuriating. When he wasn’t out at night with his friends, he was gone for the weekend. There was rarely a night anymore that you two spent time together. It almost made you feel like you weren’t worth the time, and it hurt. If you weren’t confident in your choice before, you were now. 

There wasn’t much in the apartment that was yours, a few tubs worth of personal items and clothes and all of it was going to fit in your car. By late afternoon, you you had filled your car and were doing a final sweep of the apartment. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you grabbed it as you were checking the bedroom one last time, not looking at the screen until you were nearly out the door. The name on the screen made you stop short. 

**Steve (Gym Guy):**

** Kind of wish I had skipped that meeting now.**

You smiled, laughing slightly. 

**ME:**

**Don’t tell me you’re just getting out of it now.**

You responded, glad for the distraction as you pulled the key off of your key ring and placed it on the table, flipping your now ex-boyfriend’s note over on the table and scribbled the goodbye. You wanted to write everything that you were angry about. But instead you wrote simply: 

_ Babe, _

_ Don’t wait up. _

Leaving the apartment, you locked the door behind you with the knob lock and felt free for the first time in a while. Your phone buzzed again and you looked through it with bleary eyes. Blinking away the tears you didn’t know were going to fall as you looked at the message. 

**Steve (Gym Guy):** **  
** **An hour long meeting turned into two, then had another, plus desk work.Only getting away now.**

**Steve (Gym Guy):**

**Still hungry?**

**Me:**

**Starving.**

Steve texted the address of a diner down the road from Grand Central station, and you happily replied that you would meet him there in half an hour. You had changed into a yellow sundress that came to just below your knees, wooden buttons ran down the front and two pockets on either side. A pair of thatch coloured wedges gave you an additional few inches and a light denim jacket finished the outfit. 

Something you had learned was that no matter how shitty you felt on the inside, if you made yourself feel pretty, the dark clouds on the inside tended to part if only for a little while. The sweat from moving your things to your car, without the help of an elevator and the bittersweet feeling of freedom warranted a change in appearance and you sighed in relief at the breeze that accompanied the Saturday afternoon shade thanks to the monolithic structures of Midtown New York City. 

Steve looked casual, but still dressed up in his dark jeans and white tanktop under a dress shirt. He looked the picture of a man that had been forced to listen to relentlessly boring meetings all day. He looked up as you approached and stood, pulling your chair out. You looked at him curiously and then smiled, sitting in the offered chair. 

“Such a gentleman.” You said with a small laugh, the sound nearly catching in your throat, but you pushed it down. 

“Mama always said to treat every lady like she was way to important to be sitting with you.” He looked up at you and smiled, and you felt yourself returning it. 

“She sounds like a lovely lady.” You say picking up the menu as he returns to his own seat. 

“She was.” He says almost sadly. You look up at him and see him wistfully staring at the buildings around him. 

“Oh, I’m... I’m sorry.” You supplied, feeling a tightening in your chest. 

Steve shook his head and smiled. “It’s okay, it was a long time ago. She’s still around here, sometimes I can feel her.” He smiled at the menu and you tried not to react to the slight picking up of the wind, or the fact that you smelled a lovely perfume. 

The waitress came around, collecting your orders and returning with your drinks. You ordered a nice wine, while Steve ordered a brandy of some kind. The conversation ranged from workout plans to making comments about the styles of people’s clothes as they passed. The two of you became fast friends, and you found yourself forgetting all about your lump of an Ex and instead enjoying the company of the man before you. It was easy, and felt like you had been friends for years. 

“So, diplomacy , what do you want to do with that?” Steve asked as the plates from lunch were cleared and you felt yourself lulled into the pleasant calm of a good meal. 

“I don’t really know yet. I suppose working for a consulate, or an embassy of some kind would be fun. I just really feel like we need to start thinking about the future as opposed to the present.” You said into your wine. Steve urged you to go on and you sighed. 

“So many laws and policies are bandages for problems we are facing now. But hardly anyone is thinking about what we might face in the future. People started talking about it, but then Aliens came from the sky and then people forgot all about what’s happening right in front of them for things that are happening lightyears away.” You cleared your throat at the clearly uncomfortable face of Steve in front of you. “Sorry, I get heated about this kind of thing.” 

“I agree with you.” He said quietly. You looked up at him surprised. “I turn on my TV and see things that I don’t like. Things I thought we had covered already come back to bite us.” He leans forward in his seat, taking a drink from his brandy. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s important to think about the things happening now,” You nodded in agreement. “But I would rather we start talking about how we can band together to fight a common enemy, while at the same time making sure that those who can’t defend themselves have someone to defend them.”

“Like the Avengers?” You asked, to which Steve cleared his throat. You looked at him curiously and he tilted his head regarding you carefully. “I mean there’s only what, like six of them? There’s over 6 billion people in the world, and even if only 1% of them are evil, that’s still 6,000,00 people.” You finished your wine and placed the empty cup back on the table. “That’s, quite literally a million to one.” You said with a sigh. 

“No, I don’t think that the Avengers can do all of it.” He said carefully. But then he leaned back in his chair. “ I guess that’s where people like you come in.” You hid the blush and pushed away the need to retort with a sarcastic comment. Instead you bowed your head in thanks. 

After more than an hour of talking, Steve’s phone rang and he sighed dramatically when he read the name on the phone. You motioned him off telling him silently to answer it. He mouthed ‘I’m sorry’, before moving away to speak on the phone. You turned and watched the people passing by the cafe and you wondered silently to yourself where all of them were going, and who they were going to go home to. 

One young man was holding a bouquet of flowers and seemed to be rushing, yet on his face was a big smile. Pressed to his ear was his phone and he was taking excitedly to whoever was on the other end. 

An older couple sat on one of the benches across from you, holding hands with each other, and sharing a large coffee and an ice cream cone. You smiled sadly at them and felt a twisting in your heart. You thought that that was how you would end up, but it seemed like that wasn’t an option, and wasn’t in the cards. A traitorous tear fell down your cheek and you wiped at it angrily, just to see that Steve was looking at you in concern. 

“Everything okay?” He asked quietly and you took a deep breath, forcing a smile onto your face as you motioned to the old couple. 

“Yea, fine. Just... it’s cute.” You said, pretending the tears were joy instead of deep sadness. Steve looked unconvinced, but gratefully didn’t press any more. “More work?” You tried, motioning with your chin to his phone, desperately wanting to break the tension and change the topic. 

“Uhh, sort of.” He looked at the screen of his phone and shook his head. “A friend is trying to convince me that I should go to this work...thing.” He cleared his throat. 

“Oo, like a party?” You teased and he chuckled in affirmation. “Why not. It could be fun.” You said, searching his face for the reason he didn’t want to go. 

“It’s, not really my thing. People don’t really understand... my... past.” He said uncomfortably. 

“They haven’t tried very hard then.” You mused, and he looked up at you with a grateful smile. “Steve, if you aren’t comfortable while you’re there... just.. Text me.” You offered. Steve seemed surprised by the suggestion. You waved it off with a hand. “My friends and I do it all the time. Kind of a lifeline for us introverts.”

The waitress came at that point and cleared the remaining glasses, putting the check on the table. You both reached for it at the same time, but Steve was faster. You glared at him. “I asked you for dinner, I’ll pay.” He supplied to which you crossed your arms. 

“Technically I invited you to breakfast, and you asked me if I was still hungry, so that means that I pay.” You said, holding out a hand to him. He regarded you carefully. 

You watched him expectantly, motioning your hand for him to place the bill in your hand. He raised his eyebrows as in thinking over your response before he slowly placed it in your hand. You smiled triumphantly, and pulled out a card to pay. “I guess that means I get next time.” He said as you handed the bill and card to the waitress. 

“You will learn very quickly that you shouldn’t fight with someone who is trained as a diplomat.” You said with a flash of a smile. 

“What was it that Churchill said? ‘Diplomacy is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip.’” Steve supplied and you nodded with a triumphant huff as you both stood. 

Steve walked you back to your car, and the two of you chatted more about your studies and Steve spoke about some of his hobbies, like drawing and motorbikes. As you reached your car, you had almost forgotten about the moving boxes in the backseat of your car. 

“Moving?” He asked and you stepped between him and the window trying to shield it.

“Uhh, yea, just, moving some boxes to my friend’s place before I move into another.” You lied easily, trying to look relaxed as you leaned against the body of the car nonchalantly. Again Steve looked unconvinced and you almost wondered what he did for a living that made him able to see your lies so easily. 

You coughed uncomfortably and got into the driver’s seat, rolling down the window to say your goodbyes. Steve leaned on the window and looked at you seriously. “(y/n),” It startled you to realize he hadn’t really used your name the whole time, you looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you in an unsafe situation?” He asked with such seriousness you felt your throat close. 

“No, Steve, I’m... okay.” You responded honestly. “Just... in the middle of a change. I promise, if I need your help, I’ll ask for it.” You didn’t know why you trusted this man you had only met this morning so easily, but it was something about him, something so familiar that told you that if you needed help, he would be more than willing to do anything he could to protect you. 

With a nod of apprehensive approval, Steve stood, allowing you to pull out of the parking space and drive away. It wasn’t until you were halfway back to the apartment that you remembered that you couldn’t go back. You cursed as you saw the sun was probably an hour or two from setting and you had no place to go. 

You knew a hotel in Manhattan was not going to happen, not with how little you had to spend at the moment, so you decided to pull into the parking lot of Farah’s cafe and order a tea before settling into a corner. You hadn’t realized that you had fallen asleep until you were gently shaken by Farah, a soft smile on her face. “_ Habibi, _time to go.” You looked at your watch and stared at it’s face angrily. It was well past 10pm, you knew this shop closed at 9, so Farah had let you sleep. 

You felt like the dead, and the minimal sleep you had gotten over the past two days had caught up to you with a vengeance. “Thank you, Farah. You said quietly, and she nodded as she cleared your cup. As you stood she turned to look back at you. 

“Why do you come here so late? I have never once seen you here besides in the morning.” She looked at you with the eyes of a woman wise beyond your liking. “You have a place to go to don’t you?” She asked, eyeing you suspiciously. 

“Yes, Farah, I do.” You hated lying to her, but she would ask too many questions, and you could already feel the tears welling in your throat. She mumbled something disapproving in Arabic but you ignored her and made your way out to your car. 

You found a parking lot empty beside central park and pulled a blanket out of the bag in your car and crawled into the backseat to wait out the night.


	3. A Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader finds out who her new friend really is.

You didn’t hear from Steve for the remainder of the week. You had sent him a few texts wondering if he wanted to meet at the gym, or for lunch, but by Wednesday you gave up, figuring that he was busy. There were dozens of missed calls on your phone from your ex though, text messages that went from confusion, to devastation, to downright anger. You blocked the number after he sent you a long tirade about your performance in bed and debasing your life’s passion. You weren’t hurt so much as you were tired. The apartment search was more abismal than you thought it could ever be. It was the middle of most lease agreements, so any open places that you hoped to find were taken by young college students. It infuriated you, so you joined the train of millions of other college aged students and slept in your car. 

It wasn’t as hard as you thought to get into a rhythm that entailed going to class, parking your car in the back of the lot, using the school gym to shower, or your gym when you couldn’t get into the gym after hours, going to work, then curling up in the back of your car. The few tubs you had made it easy to stuff all of your stuff in one place or another with plenty of room for you. You almost laughed at how much more affordable this way of life was. You didn’t have to pay any bills besides gas, and people tended to ask less questions than you thought. 

You had met a few other students in the same situation, and you had all become fast friends. Finding someone to split a pizza with and talk to before returning to your “home” was a relief, and you found yourself considering a more permanent mobile home. It was during one of these late night picnics that your phone buzzed. You almost ignored it, thinking your ex had found a way to contact you, but to your surprise, and delight, it was Steve. 

**Steve (Gym Guy):**

**I’m really sorry I haven’t talked to you. Been away for work. How’s the move going? All settled in?**

Your blood ran cold. A week was too long to pretend like you hadn’t finished moving in, at least partly. But saying that you hadn’t would just arise too much suspicion. And if you said that you had, chances are, an old fashioned guy like him would want to bring a housewarming gift. You paled, simply placing the phone down on the grass under your jean clad thighs and tried to smile as a friend, Dee (Short for Dakota) was recounting the first time she had to run from cops while “Mobile Dorming”. The name she came up with for their current situation. 

A time passed before you felt your phone buzz again. You tried to ignore it, but it went off two more times. Sighing, you pulled the device from under your leg, ready to face the music, but instead of anger, you found concern. 

**Steve (Gym Guy):**

**(Y/n), I’m really sorry, I wanted to tell you I was leaving, but I didn’t have a chance.**

**Steve (Gym Guy):**

**Are you okay?**

You felt bad ignoring him, but you didn’t know what to say. It was easier to pretend that the texts weren’t there than to face your friend. Deciding to shut your phone off, you placed it back in your bag and laid back on the grass to look up at the minimal stars that you could see from the hill you all had decided to lay on. There was six of you in total. You and Dee were the only two seniors, then there was Veronica, a junior, and the twins, Hannah and Elizabeth. Sadly, the youngest in the group was Jax, He was a freshman, cut off from his parents at 17 for some reason or another, he didn’t really like to talk about it. 

It was a ragtag group of misfits, forgotten in the system to fend for themselves, but it was more freeing that restricting like you thought it was. It was easy to be yourself, and you found that you had forgotten what it had been like to be your own person while living with your Ex. You found that you laughed easier, smiled wider, and just felt more like a person than you had in years. 

Veronica pulled out a long cigarette, but you could tell from the smell that it was something a lot more than just tobacco. You didn’t mind, it was her life. Subsequently she offered it to the others around her, but you declined. You didn’t feel up to it, not when you knew you had to drive to find a new place to park for the night. They let you be, and for a while it was quiet.

The flashlight and yelling woke you up and you shot up to see the group around you scrambling to get up and run in any direction away from the cops that had converged on your location, no doubt following the strong scent of weed around you. You hadn’t realized how thick the smell was until you woke up. It almost made you dizzy and you realized that your friends had their wits about them a lot faster than you, and you were nearly to your feet before the cop’s knee was in your back and you were pressed against the ground. 

You knew better than to fight them and you put your hands to your head, wincing as they pulled them back behind you. You stared angrily at the ground, but knew that you hadn’t smoked anything so you would be let out before the night was over. 

*~*~*

“Trespassing?!” You nearly screamed in the cop’s face as you sat in the chair of the midtown precinct. “I wasn’t trespassing!” 

“You were in central park after 1 Am. That’s trespassing.” You looked at the clock to see the digital numbers blink 2:06 am. 

“I fell asleep.” You tried and he shrugged. 

“And? You were there past 1 Am. Asleep or not, that’s trespassing. Not to mention smoking cannabis and drinking with individuals under the legal limit.” The cop read the charges off of the paper and you stared at him dumbly.

“I wasn’t smoking.” You retorted, and glared at him as he read out something on the screen. No doubt the drug test.

“No, but you were drinking. And you bought the alcohol for the minors.” He turned back to the paper in his hand and you wanted to claw his eyes out.

“What? No I didn’t!” You wished you had bit your tongue. You didn’t want to rat out Veronica and Dee, the ones who had brought the bottles the six of you had been sharing. The cop looked at you expectantly, and you slumped in the chair, pulling on the cuffs around your wrists. “I want to speak to a lawyer.” You pressed. The cop sighed and looked down at you. 

“Look, kid. A minor alcohol charge like this is probably going to run you $500 in a fine. Getting a lawyer will be triple that. And if you lose, which, if I’m going to be honest, you will, you will be in the hole more than if you just paid the fine.” You stared at him. Cops weren’t supposed to talk like this, you didn’t know if he was actually trying to help, or just trying to get you to go for the bait. 

The $800 in your account was all you had saved, and it was all that you had to pay for the apartment you needed. It killed you, but he was right. You couldn’t risk paying for a lawyer just to lose the case. It was a rock and a hard place, and both of the options sucked. A lot. “I’ll take the fine.” You said finally. He nodded and turned back to his desk. 

“You got someone you can call? Or do you want to spend the night in here.” He said, motioning his head to the drunk tank beside him. You looked at it warily, it was empty, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way. But the alternative was calling your ex, or Steve. Neither option sounded like a way to end the night, so you opted for the drunk tank.

The bench was long enough for you to spread out on it, so you did, accustomed now to the discomfort of homelessness. You didn’t like to admit it, but the situation you found yourself in was becoming more and more painfully obvious. It didn’t take long for sleep to overcome you, and with your hoodie pulled up over your hair as a sort of makeshift pillow and light filter, you fell asleep.

It was an hour later when you heard the door to the cell beside you open and close followed by a slurred “Oh come on. Who pullsa man out of his own bar for... public insoxi... in.. for being drunk!” The voice called to which the cops in the main room just groaned. 

“Stark, for your own sake. Shut the hell up.” One cope called, and you could tell that this was a semi-regular experience. 

“Don’t I get a phone call?” He called sarcastically, and you turned to look at him, he was in a suit, disheveled and tie loose. His shirt was untucked and his hair looked a mess. He smelled strongly of alcohol and you turned your nose up at it. 

His eyes met you through the bars and he regarded you for a moment before walking up to the bars and slinging his hands though it, cocking a hip to lean against it lazily. “Come on Kawalski, I get a phone call.” He said again and the man glared at him. 

“That’s not my name Stark, and you know it.” The cop that had booked you was glaring at his screen. “Besides. We’ve already called your guy.” 

The man, you now realized that he was the famous Tony Stark, had the decency to look surprised. “Which one.” 

“Me.” The voice had you turning quickly to face the wall, hiding your face against the brick from Steve’s voice. “Come on Tony, we talked about this.” 

“Stevie!” He slurred. Steve let out an exasperated sigh. “My Hero.” Steve grumbled something and Stark made a non-commital noise. “Bettern not sleeping.”

The sound of cell doors opening caught your attention and you looked through the bars discretely to watch as Steve looked on at Stark disapprovingly. He was dressed more casually than you had seen him before. Regular blue jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked tired. There was a bandage above his brow, and one of his cheeks had a purple and yellow bruise on it. You took in a breath, that must have been audible, because his eyes flicked to you but you were able to hide before he saw you. 

“Cap, you comin’? Yer... kinda my,” He stopped, the sound like he wanted to get sick. “My ride.” Stark called, he sounded far away, and you waited with held breath as the sound of Steve’s footsteps receded from you.

The name Stark had called confused you, Cap... why did that..

“Holy shit.” You said, sitting up suddenly. “Holy SHIT.” You nearly yelled. The cops in the room turned to look at you but you didn’t care. That’s how you knew Steve.. He was Captain Fucking America. 


	4. A confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ex-boyfriends are assholes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for an asshole boyfriend.

The next morning, you collected your things from the personal effects counter and grumbled a “thank you” To the woman behind the counter. She just looked at you over the rim of her glasses and then turned to answer a ringing phone beside her. 

After a night in the station, the sunlight was blinding. Thankfully it was again Saturday, and after the horrible night sleep you got, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep. You made your way back to the park, which was a slow process, especially because you only had about $300 left in your bank account until the following week thanks to the fine you just paid, and couldn’t afford a $15 dollar taxi ride. 

And you definitely couldn’t afford the orange paper waving in the wind when you arrived back at your car. You grabbed the ticket angrily and had to stop yourself from ripping it apart and letting the paper float into the early morning wind. The sun was just starting to rise between the buildings around you and you pulled off the sweater you were wearing in favour of the T-shirt below in the rising heat. 

With the ticket clutched tightly in your hand, you didn’t even want to look at the cost. You knew that more likely than not, it would put you in the negative. Suddenly, the weight of the world fell on your shoulders and you slid down the side of your car to sit on the pavement beside the wheel. You turned your face up to the sun and let it warm the cool trails of the tears that had begun to fall from the corners of your eyes. 

Was it a mistake? Leaving your boyfriend? Probably. But it was either that or he would make you leave. That was obvious from the text that included the picture of a beautiful ring. You knew you would have said no. Then where would you go? Probably the same course of events, if not only a few weeks later. No, this was going to happen one way or another. But at least this way was on your own terms.

Your head fell onto your arms that had come up to hug your knees to your chest. There was the sound of jogging footsteps and heavy breath and you hid your face, hoping the jogger would just pass you by and pay no mind to the woman having a mental breakdown on the side of the park. 

Of course, you couldn’t have gotten your way, even for just a moment. “Ma’am, are you okay? Do you need-” The voice stopped and you wanted to curse. Of course it was Steve. “(Y/n)?” You looked up and saw Steve standing over you. The bruise from the night before was healed a lot more than you thought it should have been and you wondered if maybe seeing him last night was a dream. 

You wiped at your nose and face and stood ungracefully. “Hey Steve...What’s up?” You said, trying to act normal as you leaned against the hood of the car. You saw a brief reflection of yourself in the car window and you knew you looked a mess. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, and you felt a twinge of guilt knowing that he had texted you the same thing. 

You pasted a fake smile onto your face and nodded adjusting your shirt to busy your shaking hands. “Yea! Yea I’m fine.” You waved the ticket in your hand and laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. “Just... got a ticket.” You hated how shaky your voice sounded. 

Steve looked at you, concerned. Then his eyes slipped past you to the boxes and makeshift bed you had in the back of the car. His eyes flicked back to yours and you now understood how very small you could feel. He put his hands on his hips, shifting his weight and his jaw clenched angrily. “(Y/n).” He said, and you felt anger flare in your chest, the last thing your tired psyche needed was another lecture.

“What Steve? What!” You snapped. He looked hurt for a moment but then his gaze hardened back to his icy stare. “I’m managing alright? I’ve done just fine without help for the past 10 years of my life, and I don’t need a lecture from you to do anything but make me feel worse about myself.” You seethed. You knew that the anger was misplaced. But you felt like the world was a lot bigger, and a lot meaner than you thought it was for the first time in years. 

“(Y/n), I’m not going to lecture you.” He started but you just turned back to your car, suppressing more tears as you fumbled with the keys. A hand reached out to help you but you reared on him.

  
“Don’t. Touch me.” The words burned in your mouth, but if they hurt Steve he didn’t let it show. He simply took a step back and let you open the door to your car to throw the ticket inside. You dug around for a granola bar, but you realized you must have eaten the last one the day before. Your stomach growled painfully and you heard Steve call your name again. 

“When did you eat last?” He asked quietly. Your anger dissipated at his tone. This was someone who knew what it was like to go hungry. 

“Last night, around 7.” You admitted quietly. You hadn’t been that hungry, so you only ate a slice. It was probably the first thing you had had all day besides a granola bar and a free coffee from the university center. 

“Let’s go get you something to eat.” He said quietly, motioning you in front of him. You looked back at your car and sighed. 

“We should take my car. I leave it here much longer and it’ll get impounded.” You said opening the door. Steve looked hesitant but nodded, climbing into the seat beside you. You apologized for the mess but if he minded he didn’t say anything. It made you laugh, he was so much bigger than the seat gave him room to be. You started the car and pulled out. Meanwhile, Steve grabbed the ticket and raised his eyebrows. 

“I don’t even want to know. But you can look.” You responded quietly, and he did. The way he sucked in a breath made your stomach drop. He stuffed the white paper into the orange envelope and folded it, before sticking it in his pocket. “What are you doing?” You asked, glancing over at him at the sound. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He said, motioning toward the road. 

“Steve, I can't let you pay for it, if that’s what you’re on about.” You said, eyes returning to the road, but you casually glanced at him as he typed into his phone. 

“Yes you can. And you’re going to.” He said with such finality that you humphed childishly. 

A few moments of silence followed and you sighed, resting your head on the wheel at a stoplight. “Thank you...” You said quietly, to which he didn’t respond, instead he turned on the radio and turned it to an oldies station. You looked at him with a small smile, happy for company. 

As you drove, you mulled over the fact that you now knew that he was Captain America, but that he didn’t know that you knew. It occurred to you that he hadn’t told you for a reason. Maybe he was trying to keep the secret identity, even though most of the population of New York had seen his face by now, or maybe, it was refreshing for him to just be... Steve. Not Steve Rogers, Not Captain America, just... Steve. 

Before you realized where you were going, you pulled into the parking lot of Farah’s coffee shop. The second your car pulled into its usual spot, Farah came hustling out of the door, talking rapidly. It was a mix of English, and angry Arabic. 

Steve looked on in startled wonder as you sighed and waited for the hobbly old woman to make it to you. “Where! Have you been.” She chided and you had the good sense to drop your head. 

“I’m sorry Farah, money has been tight lately.” You said as a kind of explanation. She shook her head and put a hand on your shoulder pushing you toward the door. 

“Ech!” The noise was a cross between an ‘oh stop’ and a ‘don’t you even start’. “You know that you could always come and ask for whatever you wanted and you paid when you could. _ Habibi, _I will not let you go hungry.” You looked over your shoulder at Steve who just looked at you with a curious look and you just smiled. 

Farah placed you in a booth by the window and disappeared into the kitchen. Steve followed soon after and slid into the table opposite of you. “Friend of yours?” He asked indicating with a tip of his head to the woman. You smiled fondly at the door she had disappeared behind and shrugged. 

“Sort of, I’m a regular, and she tends to fawn over me.” You said, watching as he glanced down at the menu in front of him. You suppress a laugh as his face screwed up at the names and words on the menu. It was half in Arabic, half in English, but he happened to be looking at the side that was in Arabic. You took the menu from him and flipped it over, showing the English side. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly and you just laughed. “It looked like English.” He said, trying to save face. 

“It’s transliteration.” You said, eyes drifting over to the kitchen door as it swung open and Farah placed a plate of treats on the table in front of you, and slid a large coffee into your hands. She was muttering something and you took her hand, a silent thanks. 

“And what can I get you?” She turned to look at him but stopped suddenly, taking in his appearance. Farah was well into her 60s, and was once married, but she knew a handsome man when she saw one. 

“Uhm, just a black coffee please, ma’am.” She nodded looking him over again before looking to you and raising her eyebrows. 

“Sure thing _ Wasim _” She said turning back to her work. You cupped the hot coffee cup, letting the smell relax you. Steve picked up a pastry that looked like a cinnamon roll, but a sweet date smell came wafting up and when he took a bite, sesame seeds fell from the outside.You grabbed a Baklava for yourself and let the filo melt on your tongue luxuriously. 

Steve’s coffee came in quick order, and you two sat in silence, picking at the plate in front of you until you were both sufficiently full. Only then did Steve speak. “(Y/n), I don’t want to press where it’s not welcome, but, I asked you before and I’ll ask again. Are you in a safe situation?” He seemed so caring, like he wouldn’t let anything in the world hurt you. You understood why he was America’s Sweetheart. 

“I’m safe enough if that’s what you’re asking.” You said with another sip of the sweet coffee. He raised his eyebrow, and pursed his lip, he wasn’t willing to play along. “I’m kind of short on money at the moment and can’t really find an apartment in my price range. I’m hoping that after the semester ends, there will be some openings, but until then, I can survive in my car. It’s giving me a chance to save up money.” 

Steve listened, not judging you in the slightest. “Why don’t you ask for help? Surely there’s someone that can give you a hand? A partner maybe?” He asked, and you gripped your cup tighter. He noticed and sighed. “I... don’t mean to intrude. I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head. “Not, it’s okay. Kind of a sore subject at the moment.” You supplied, looking at your tired reflection in the surface of the coffee. “I actually just separated from a long time partner.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was it on good terms?” He asked, but before you could respond, there was a loud scoff, and a shout from the other side of the cafe. 

“You, SLUT.” Came the scathing voice. You both turned your heads, looking to see who would dare break the quiet hum of the cafe to utter such a crass remark. Farah was glaring at the man who came in, and when you turned to look at who had said it, your eyes went wide to see the utterly pissed gaze of your Ex boyfriend.

“Nathan?” You asked quietly, blood turning to ice in your veins.He staked over to you, and you saw Steve twitch in seat across from you. You shot him a glance and shook your head. “What are you doing here?” 

“Looking for you! I thought maybe I could find you here. And of course I find you with some rebound.” He glared at Steve and you felt your jaw clench. 

“Nathan. Can we talk outside. This is hardly appropriate.” You seethed, very aware of all the eyes on you. 

“Oh, now you want to talk? Now you want to make an effort to explain yourself?” He scoffed, looking around the room, making a scene. 

“I don’t have to explain anything to you. I should have walked out a long time ago.” You retorted, all civility gone from your voice as you stood and glared up at him. He stood a few inches taller than you, but you didn’t care. You could grow a few inches when you need to. “I should have walked out on your lazy, immature, pathetic ass years ago.” 

“But you didn’t. You stayed and waited until I was gone before you grabbed your shit and walked out. Like a coward.” He spat and you had to clench your fist to keep from slapping him. “You waited until you were almost done of your degree before you walked out. Freeloading off of me until you didn’t need to anymore and you found someone else to fuck you at night.” At that. You did slap him. 

“You shut your mouth.” You seethed almost silently, most of the other patrons had either gotten up and left, or began murmuring to the other members of their parties. At the slap, Farah came up to you and lightly took your arm, holding it down by your side. 

“_ Habibi, _that’s enough.” She said quietly. You glared at Nathan, as he held a hand up to where you had split his lip.

“You, BITCH.” He looked ready to charge, but Steve stood, putting himself between you and placing his hand on Nathan’s chest. 

“Son, that’s just about enough.” He hissed quietly, and you found yourself for the first time slightly afraid of your friend. “Take your business else where. And you leave this girl alone. You hear me?” He said not looking at Nathan, instead, looking past him, scanning the room. Nathan shrugged him off and took a step back. 

“You better watch yourself. Your guard dog ain’t gonna be around forever.” He said spitting at your feet. Steve’s glare turned dangerous and he pushed Nathan’s shoulder until he was out the door, while Farah ushered you into the kitchen, cooing softly. You hadn’t realized that your hands were shaking until she pressed a cup of water into it. 

“Oh, _ Habibi. _” She whispered quietly, cupping your head to her chest to sooth you. Steve walked in a few minutes later, anger radiating off of him in waves. 

“He’s gone. But I doubt that’s the last of him.” He said to Farah and she nodded, all too comfortable with the idea of someone harassing her place of work. Steve knelt in front of you and took your shaking hands in his. He smiled up comfortingly at you and tried to return it but you just wanted to cry. “You okay?” He asked, holding them tightly to stop the shaking. 

“No.” You replied honestly. To which he nodded. You sat in silence for a moment, but you began speaking before you knew the words were coming out of your mouth. “I am so sorry. I hope you don’t think that I was rebounding with you! You were just so nice and I felt comfortable with you and you were so different than him and it made me happy and-” You were rambling and Steve ran a comforting hand down your shoulder. 

“(Y/n) stop.” He ordered quietly and you found yourself hiccuping a sob. “Don’t let what he said get to you. You have every right to have other male friends, and I think that it’s really awful for him to even suggest something like you being unfaithful.” You nodded, and he wiped a tear from your face. 

“I wasn’t unfaithful. Not once. I didn’t even have any guy friends while I was with him.” You said quietly, gratefully accepting a tissue from Farah. 

“(Y/n) he sounds like he was abusive.” Farah said from behind you, and Steve met her eyes and then yours, nodding slightly. 

“Unfortunately I have to agree.” Steve said with a sigh.

“No he never... he never hit me...” You said with a waver to your voice. He was distant, and lost his temper a lot, leaving you to suffer his silent treatment until he ‘forgave’ you. It was a lonely existence. 

“Someone doesn’t need to hit you for it to be abusive.” Steve supplied before looking down at his watch. “I’m going to make some calls. I’ll be right back.” He stood, but your hand shot out to his arm. 

“Steve, I don’t want to press charges, or report it. If that’s what you’re going to do.” You said quickly. He looked at you, conflicted but nodded.

“I’d never do that without asking you first.” He said with finality. You nodded, letting him go. He left the kitchen and Farah left you to your own devices, letting you calm down as she puttered, walking out to fill orders as she needed to. 

You felt you knee bounce on it’s own as you started to think about what Nathan had said. He was right. Steve wouldn’t be around to protect you all the time. He had a life, he had a job... his job was being Captain Fucking America. He wasn’t going to stop saving the world to save you. All you had was your car. You could trade it in... but you didn’t have enough to do anything other than get a worse off car, and then you would be in the same situation. He would figure out your new car, and it would start all over again. You could leave, but you were so close to finishing your degree and couldn’t risk losing the scholarship. 

All the options made your head spin. So when Steve came back into the kitchen, and lead you back out to the passenger side of your car, taking the driver’s seat himself you didn’t question it. You didn’t even really recognize that he was talking until he said your name a bit louder. You jumped and he looked at you sadly. 

“You should be safe here.”He said, taking a turn into a parking garage, then to another door. He pressed his hand against a sensor and the door opened. He slowly pulled in, past some extremely nice cars and then some typical black sedans. There was an empty space next to an old motor bike, which you instantly knew was his, and he pulled into it, before turning off the car. 

“Where are we?” You asked, not having paid enough attention on the ride over to know. You stepped out of the car, the outside world silent for the most part this deep underground. 

“A safe place. Grab a bag of what you need for a couple nights of sleep. I want to make sure that kid doesn’t come around asking the wrong kind of questions.” Steve said, not really answering your question. 

You followed his instructions numbly, really wanting to just curl up in a bed and sleep... and maybe cry. Or both. Steve’s hand on your back was comforting as he led you up to an elevator and punched the ‘Up’ button. 


	5. Chapter 5

Steve lead you to a room on the 11th floor. The window that covered much of the outer wall let you see the streets below, and you could even see the Grand Central Terminal. It had only just been reopened, and you could see that there was a look of relief on the faces of everyone around as life returned to a more normal pace. It didn’t really occur to you to ask where you were, as you stared out at the beautiful view. 

You dropped your bag beside the bed, carefully making your way around to look at the room a bit better. “Its... not much.” Steve said, and if you looked over your shoulder, you could tell that he was probably rubbing the back of his neck. You turned to see him doing just that, smiling to yourself as you looked back out the window. 

You and Steve had only known each other for a week, but you felt like he was a best friend already. There was something about the way that both of you could see right through the other’s bullshit so fast that it was scary. You tried not to think about the fact that he was a trained soldier, and the reason he could look through you so easily was that he was basically a super intelligent spy/war machine. He didn’t look that way in his t-shirts and sneakers. 

“Steve, I don’t know how I can thank you. Really.” You said, turning back to him and walking over to stand in front of him. 

He put his hands on your shoulders, looking down at you seriously. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” You placed a hand on his on your shoulder, and felt the strong and solid feeling holding you. It was a comfort, really. You couldn’t remember the last time someone touched you without wanting anything more than just to share space. 

You looked up at him and before you knew, you were wrapping your arms around his torso, hot tears staining into the blue-gray of his work out shirt. He wrapped his arms around you without question and held you while the fear and sadness and anger just poured out of you. You felt him cradle your head and brush down your head. 

When you calmed down, you pulled away awkwardly. “I... I’m sorry.” You said, brushing the tears from your face. Your voice sounded garbled, like you had swallowed sand. 

Steve just turned, grabbing a box of tissues and handing it to you. “Let’s make a deal that you won’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. Got it?” He said with a laugh and you echoed it, taking the box gratefully. 

“What’s your end of the deal?” you joked and he thought for a moment before responding. 

“I won’t break that punk’s neck.” He winked as he said it, turning on his heels and walking to the door. He stopped there, and leaned on the door jam for a moment, then looked over his shoulder. “If you need anything, text me. I’ll probably be in meetings until lunch. We can grab something then if you want okay?” You nodded and he smiled, then closed the door behind him. 

You wanted to shower, but you wanted to sleep more, so you laid on top of the comforter and before your head hit the pillow you were asleep. 

  
~~**~*~

“Miss (L/n)?” A woman’s voice woke you up and shot up in bed. The room was dark, and you glanced outside to see the skyline lit up with darkness. “Oh, Sorry, Didn’t mean to startle you.” The voice continued, and you looked around for the source. 

“What... What time is it... and where are you?” You asked, rubbing at your eyes. 

“It is about 8:30 pm, and I am... everywhere. I am FRIDAY.” You furrowed your brow as you stood up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. “Mister Rogers wanted me to check on you, and I noticed that your caloric intake was below the required balance.” You stopped moving, and stared up at the ceiling. 

“Uhh... what?” You asked, sleep still muddling your brain.

“You’re hungry.” The scottish woman said, and as if responding to the statement, your stomach growled. You thought you heard a smugness to the voice, but decided better of commenting on it. “I’ll tell Mister Rogers that you are awake, when you are ready. I will help you to the living room.”You nodded, but figured that she couldn’t see you. When you responded verbally, she informed you that she could see you. You changed in the bathroom. 

The most comfortable clothes you could find in your bag was a pair of white shorts, warm but comfortable in the air conditioning, and a t-shirt. You slipped a sweater over it, wanting the comfort of sleeves to hide your hands. FRIDAY lit up a strip along the wall that lead to the elevator, and as you stepped in, the button for the 93rd floor was pressed and you had to say that you were impressed at the speed, yet you didn’t feel sick like you did when you went up to the top of the Empire State Building. 

The door opened to an ultra modern living space, the Penthouse probably, and you glanced around to understand your surroundings. The large window on the opposite side of the room showed a breathtaking view of the city, and you had to stop yourself from running up to it. To the right there was a set of stairs that lead to the balcony, and a bar. You assumed that the wall separated the kitchen from the rest of the room. To the left was hallways that lead to somewhere you couldn’t see. It was all very lavish, and you had a feeling that you were severely underdressed. 

In front of you there was a sunken conversation pit, and this is where you spotted Steve, joking around with a man you didn’t know. They turned to look at you and went silent. Steve instantly stood up, coming over to you and offering a hand. You took it warily, following him back to the couch to sit. The other man, smiled at you offering his hand and shaking it, introducing himself as Rhodey. You introduced yourself and Steve returned to his seat beside you, offering you a glass of water. You took it, sipping at it gently to wet your mouth. 

“Steve was telling me that you are a Diplomat.” Rhodey said conversationally. You hated to contradict him, but shook your head. 

“Working on it. Still have a Semester and a half before I am technically allowed to even call myself a Political Scientist. I’m hoping to work as an advocate for the states...” You trailed off and he nodded encouragingly. 

It went from there, you and Rhodey talking about politics, with Steve interjecting every now and again to either add points or to ask questions. Rhodey told you about funny war stories, and about what he learned during his time as a Colonel. It was nice. For once you didn’t feel as lonely as you had before. 

Nathan would always groan and had eventually banned all topics of politics from your apartment. It made studying at home a very difficult task, one which you gave up and just studied at the library. 

“So was no one going to tell me that there was a party in my own living room?” You heard a familiar voice call from behind you, and the two men rolled their eyes before turning to face the man who had spoken as he made his way to the bar. 

“Tony, should you be drinking?” Rhodey asked with a slight tone of tired disappointment. 

“Colonel, you wound me.” Tony said, glancing at his friend who just shook his head and settled back into his chair, sipping his coke. Tony’s eyes then landed on you and he furrowed a brow, pouring a glass of whiskey with practiced ease. You paled, realizing you hadn’t told Steve that the reason you had gotten that ticket was because you were in the drunk tank the night he came to get Stark.

Steve, picking up on the look of recognition in Tony’s eyes moved to introduce you. “Tony, this is my friend... (Y/n). She’s staying in the apartment on the 11th.” Tony nodded, moving over to the couch. You waited with baited breath as he took a seat in a chair beside the one Rhodey sat in. 

“Good to meet you.” You said quietly, and Tony just tilted his head almost imperceptibly at you before returning the sentiment. You felt Steve looking at you and knew that he was waiting for you to put the pieces together, you just ignored the look, and instead drank more of your water. 

A pizza had been ordered, and it arrived with another man, this one blonde. His eyes scanned over the room, but didn’t say anything when he noticed you. Just placed the box on the table in the middle of the group of men, and you. He grabbed at a piece and plopped in a chair to your left. Rhodey glared at him and turned the box to you. “Don’t know know manners, Barton? Ladies first.” He chastised and you just smiled a laugh, grabbing a piece. The man, Barton, widened his eyes and with a mouth full of Pizza shrugged. 

“Delivery fee.” He said, slinging his legs over the leg of the chair. As he did so he winked at you and you felt a blush crawl onto your face. The rest of the men grumbled before grabbing a slice themselves. Between the five of you, you polished off the large pizza and an order of wings. 

Soon enough, the conversation, and TV moved to football, and you found yourself itching to go see the view. You made your way to the balcony, and Steve followed soon after. “(Y/n), I need to talk to you about something.” He said nervously, after you had settled at the balcony. You nodded and turned to him. 

“Steve, I know what you’re going to say. And you don’t have to say it.” You said looking up at him sweetly. “I know that I have pizza on my shirt. I was hoping no one would notice.” You joked, pulling at your shirt, looking at the imaginary stain. He smiled, relaxing slightly. 

“No, it’s... it’s not that. There’s something I haven’t told you, and you deserve to know. I’m sorry I kept it from you, and that wasn’t right.” You put a hand on his arm to stop him. 

“Steve, I know.” He went to talk again, but you just tilted your head to the side. “It’s not every day you get to have pizza with Iron Man and Colonel Rhodes.” You said leaning against the railing. “I had to study the trade deals that lead to the trials. I know, and you don’t have to say it.” He mimicked your stance on the railing, but it looked considerably less comfortable considering he was over 6 feet and the railing came to just under his ribcage when he leaned. 

“How long have you known?” He asked, looking out on the city below. 

“Not long, but I didn’t just start talking to you because of that... just so you know.” You added after a few moments of silence. He nodded. 

“I know.” There was quiet after that, and when there was a knock on the window, you both turned to see Tony pointing at his watch then to the hallway you had seen before, to the right. Steve nodded, then smiled at you. “Duty calls.” He said apologetically. 

“Go save the world.” You called to which he cocked an eyebrow at you. “What! It’s out in the open now. I can joke about it.” 

You watched him leave, then leant on the balcony again, watching the world pass below you, utterly exposed, but completely alone.    
  


~*~*~ 

Monday morning you found yourself on the 6 train heading to class. You had meant to ask Steve, but he was mysteriously missing for the remainder of the weekend, and so was most everyone else. So you assumed that it was safe for you to go on your own to class.

Coffee (From Farah’s of course) in hand, you made your way through the day, and by dinner you you had a sneaking suspicion that you were being followed. You glanced up from the article on your phone about an explosion at a UN building scanned the train. 

No one was looking at you. That much was certain, but you still felt like you were in danger. You looked back to the phone and carefully switched it over to the messages. You scrolled to Steve’s contact, which you had not changed since he put it into your phone. 

**ME:**

**I think I’m being followed.**

There was no response, and you kind of felt silly. Of course you weren’t being followed. Why would anyone follow you?  _ You’re friends with Captain America... that’s one reason. _ You shifted your weight and looked around again. Searching for something strange, it was more unnerving that everything seemed normal, you almost wished you saw someone with their hood up, staring at you from a dark corner of the car. 

As you approached the end of the line, you felt your phone buzz. You opened your messages happily, hoping to see a message from Steve to call and talk to him on the phone while you walked home, but your heart dropped as you saw the number, and message on the phone. 

**[UNKNOWN]**

**Get off at the next stop. Walk to the back of the station, by the service door. Don’t do anything stupid. **

You wanted to scream, but with shaking hands you put the phone away and scanned the car once more. Nothing had changed. You almost wondered if it was a prank.But as the doors opened on the next stop, you obediently walked out with the crowd and made your way to the back of the station your knees wanted to give out as you stood by the door. 

The lights in the service hallway went out suddenly. And you felt a sharp stab to your neck and a hand over your mouth. You tried to scream but the sound stuck in your throat and you slipped unconscious.


	6. An Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader find out who texted her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR AN ATTEMPTED ASSAULT

You woke up what felt like seconds later, to a table, and a lamp shining in your face. You wanted to laugh. Seriously? A lamp and a table? What was this Law and Order? You shook your head, trying to clear the remaining fogginess from your mind. Someone moved in the corner and you steeled your features, glaring at the shadow. “Oh good, you’re awake. I was one step away from smacking you to wake up.” The voice, a man’s said from the darkness. You narrowed your eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?” You spat, pulling at the restraints holding your arms behind you. It felt distinctly like when you were in the drunk tank, but you pushed the thought from your head. “And how did you get my number.” 

There was no response, but a file full of pictures slid across the table and landed in front of you. The hand, clad in black tackle wear, gloves, and looked a lot stronger than you opened it. You could see the leg of the person who had you, and he had a gun strapped to his thigh, and probably countless others on his person. “What do you know about Captain America.” He said, ignoring your question. 

“I will not answer any of your questions.” You returned with a shaky breath, your nerves were making you out to be a lot stronger than you felt, and you wanted to smack yourself. _ Don’t antagonize your kidnapper, dumbass _.

“I figured you might say that.” He flipped to another picture and pointed to what looked like Steve, running and shooting at police. You felt your heart beat fast and you stared up at him. “Look, (Y/n), this guys a criminal, a war criminal. He is an accomplice to a terrorist. I’m just trying to protect you.” He said, trying to sound understanding. 

“Bullshit.” You retorted, and the man sighed. 

“You are protecting someone who would not hesitate to kill you if you got in the way.” You shook your head, wanting to protest but he cut you off. “How long have you known him? Really.” You sat back. Listening as he spoke. “You’ve known him for what... a week? Maybe two? The man is a trained spy, a killer. You think because he shows you a little bit of attention that he’s a good person? Bet he laid it on thick, being all protective and kind. Ever the American sweetheart right?” You nodded, not realizing what you were doing. 

“He...He protected me, and...”You started, but he just scoffed.

“He’s a master manipulator. Remember when the Triskelion fell?” You nodded. “He was breaking out a terrorist, and protecting Hydra, a Nazi organization. He’s not a good man. That’s why I need you to tell me everything you know about him, so we can stop him. Before he hurts anyone else.” You glared up at him. 

“Who’s we? SHIELD was disbanded, and Department of Damage Control doesn’t have jurisdiction over the Avengers.” You rattled off, eyes narrowing. The silence was heavy, and you saw him reach for his gun as your blood ran cold. 

The sound of a trilling ringtone stopped you both cold. He glared at your phone on the table, and you saw the contact name light up the screen. 

**Call From: **

**Steve (Gym Guy)**

The man glared at you, and then narrowed his eyes. The call fell through, and you locked eyes with him again. The silence was again broken by another call. 

**Call From:**

**Steve (Gym Guy)**

The man moved quickly, opening the cuffs and just as quickly drawing his guy, pressing it to the side of your head. “Answer it.” There was a silent warning in his voice that should you even think of screaming, or running, you would paint the wall behind you a lovely shade of red. With shaking hands you answered the phone, but the man took the phone from you, and put it on speaker phone, placing it on the table in front of you. 

_ "(Y/n), Thank God. Are you okay?” _He sounded tired. And you wondered if he was on a mission this whole time, that’s why he was ignoring you for the better part of two days. 

“Hey! Yea, fine. Uhm, I thought I was being followed on the train-” There was a slight click, as the man beside you cocked his gun. You didn’t even think guns made that sound, but they most certainly did. You swallowed your fear and continued your thought. “B-but I think I was just paranoid, you know?”

_ “Yea, I figured that was it.” _ There was a change in his voice, and you realized that he must have heard the gun. You had heard somewhere that part of the serum was all of his senses were heightened, and he must have heard this small noise, you wanted to cry with relief. _ “When do you think you’ll see Nathan again?” _He asked casually, and you realized this was him asking if Nathan was the one who got you. 

“I don’t know, hopefully not for a while. Personally I’m done with him.” You said, hoping he understood your meaning. 

_ “I don’t blame you-” _ He understood. _ “Well, I’m coming home from visiting a friend. So I’ll see you tonight okay?” _He was promising to come get you. 

“I don’t think I’m going to make it tonight. I have that paper remember?” You were hoping to keep him on the line, maybe he could trace it or something. 

_ “Oh which one?” _This was your chance to try to give him more information. You had no idea who this guy was, but it was someone that knew Steve, knew who he was, and therefore knew his past. 

“The one about the rise and fall of Hydra.” You winced, the gun was pressed against your skull, maybe too close to the truth. 

There was a hissed whisper in your ear as a hand was placed on your neck. “Hang up.” He ordered. You nodded shakily. 

“Hey, I got to go okay? I’ll call you later when I’m done.” You said, trying your hardest to keep from letting the terror seep into your voice. 

_ “(Y/n) Wait.” _But the man beside you pressed the button, ending the call before turning to you and raising the gun high in the air, and bringing the handle down on your temple. 

~*~*~

Steve had stared at the files in his hands for hours. He was so close to finding bucky again, but he had no idea what to expect when he did. Bucky could hate him, loath him even. Or he could attack him again, like he had not so long ago. Steve’s head fell back on the seat of the quinjet, staring up at the ceiling with anxiety coursing through his veins like blood. 

When it landed, Steve pulled out his phone to check both the time and to make sure that everything was ready for the next morning’s recon, when he saw a text that stopped his heart cold. 

**(Y/n) (L/n) *weightlifting emoji* **

**I think I’m being followed.**

The text was delivered at 6:38pm Eastern Standard Time. It was currently 3am European Standard time. The text was sent 2 hours prior, with no follow up. Steve grit his teeth as he grabbed his bag and called the number on his phone. Chances were that she had gotten paranoid from all that had happened over the last few days, and if he was honest, he didn’t blame her. 

When the phone wasn’t picked up, Steve swore, dialing it again. “Come on, (Y/n) pick up the phone.” It was all fine, until he heard the gun click. Steve’s mind worked in overdrive at that point. With the mission of the next few hours on his mind, he had to decide. Save Bucky, or save her. He couldn’t do both, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had no choice. He would have to go through with his mission here, in Romania, and then he would have to get her. He groaned in frustration, sending a small apology up to whoever was listening, hoping it would get to her, and then ducked his head. It was going to be a long night. 

~*~*~*~

Your head was pounding. It felt like there were hundreds of woodpeckers going to town on your temple, and you lifted a hand, pulling it away to find blood. “Awesome.” You said quietly, but even the minimal sound you made hurt your head. 

Pushing yourself up against the wall, you closed your eyes against the dizziness spreading out from the base of your brow up to your forehead. Like being drunk, but not in a fun way. Doing the best you could in your state, you took in the room around you. It was an old office building, destroyed by a fire, or an explosion some time ago, and left to rot. You covered your nose from the smell of rotting garbage, and pressed forward. You had no watch, no phone, no anything to tell you when in the day, or even what day it was. Your clothes felt dirty, like you had been in them for way too long. 

Following the walls the best you could, you found a door that when you pushed it open, lead to the outside. You stepped into the frigid night air and quickly wrapped your arms around your frame to keep out the chill. You weren’t wearing shoes... why did they always have to take the shoes. 

There was an alley behind whatever building this was and you looked down the abandoned street to try to see someone, or something. You walked out, rubbing warmth into your arms. “Aw, baby girl you cold? How about I help you warm up.” A voice slurred from a doorway behind which you could hear thumping music. A bar. 

“Go fuck yourself.” You shot back, and the guy’s friends hooted and laughed. He didn’t. He grabbed your arm and pushed you up against the wall behind you. 

“The fuck did you say to me, Bitch?” He hissed and you glared back at him, rearing back to punch him, but he caught your wrist and pushed it up against the wall. “Oh... I like it when they struggle.” He pushed his nose against your neck and you wanted to retch as his hand found purchase on your hip and started to move towards the hem of your jeans. 

There was a sudden jolt as he was pushed back and you heard a young man’s voice. “Hey! I don’t think she’s that into you pal.” The voice said and you looked up as the man swung past. You furrowed your brow. _ What the hell... _

The man was knocked out a moment later and you stared in shock as the red faced... man? Kid? Looked back at you. You could tell he was smiling behind the mask, but you couldn’t see him. Now that the adrenaline was running off, your headache came back with a vengeance and your eyes went blurry. “Hey... ma’am? Miss... are you... are you okay?” Your eyes closed against the pain and then you were on your knees, then your hands and knees, and then you were out cold. This was something you didn’t want to get used to. 

*~*~

You woke up in the hospital the next morning, or at least, you thought it was morning, there was sun coming through the window and you felt like you had been hit by a train. Raising your left arm, there was a tube coming from it, connected to a bag that was hanging from a wire IV stand. You looked to your right through hazy eyes and saw a bandage on your arm. You hadn’t seen the injury the night before, and you hated to figure out what had caused it. You lifted it anyway, and felt your face to feel a breathing tube in your nose. 

There was a bandage on your head and you winced at the feeling of stitches under it. You had been royally fucked up by that guy that caught you. But more importantly, how the hell did you get here? Did that... spider... kid.. Help you? 

The door opened a moment later, and you saw someone you didn’t expect in the slightest walk in, a coffee and phone in hand. Tony looked up at you and rushed over to the side of your bed, placing the coffee cup down and pushing your hand back to the side of your bed. “I wouldn’t touch that... don’t want to pull the stitches out” He said quietly, and you stared up at him, confused. 

“What the hell, happened.” You asked, watching as he walked to the other side of the bed and sat in his chair. You noticed now that his suit coat was draped over the back of the chair, and he was just in his vest and tie, casual dress pants and shoes. 

“Well, I’d like to ask the same thing about you.” He responded, leaning forward in his chair. 

“Where’s Steve.” You demanded, and Tony looked uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Tony.” You demanded again, and he sighed. 

“One thing at a time, can you tell me what happened to you?” He started, reaching for his coffee again. He looked tired. Like he had been here all night, or more. _ How long have I been here? _“Two days.” He answered, and you hadn’t realized you spoke out loud. You nodded, closing your eyes again. 

“I was on the train, coming back from school.” Tony made a noise, letting you know he was listening. “I... thought I was being followed. I texted Steve.” Your voice started to waver, you hadn’t realized how close you had been to dying, and the terror was starting to rise as you spoke. “I...I got a text, on my phone.” You breath hitched and you felt Tony grab your hand comfortingly. You squeezed it tightly, hoping to hold you to the present and not get sucked into the past. “He told me to go to the back of the station... He injected something... I fell asleep. When I woke up.. He made me talk to Steve... On the phone.” You heard Tony mutter a ‘Jesus’ under his breath. 

“I didn’t tell him anything. I didn’t say anything.” You started, feeling tears well in your eyes. “I didn’t say anything about you, about any of it. I promise.” The door opened again and a nurse came in, looking worried. Your heart monitor must have gone off, but Tony waved her away. She looked nervous, but closed the door. 

“I know you didn’t. I know. It’s okay.” Tony comforted you as you sobbed, fear constricting your throat. “It’s okay (y/n), breathe.” He said and you tried to do that, but nothing was going in. He reached over, and increased the flow of oxygen pushed into your nose and suddenly you could breathe again. “We are gonna find who did this.” 

“He wanted information on Steve. He wanted to know where he was, how I knew him, why?” You asked, turning to look at Tony. It was then that Tony sighed again, pushing the chair he was sitting in forward in order to talk to you better. 

He told you everything, about the Accords, about the split in the teams. How Steve had gone to Romania to find his friend Bucky, how they had been arrested. You nodded along numbly, listening to the story but staring out the window at the world outside the hospital. How could so much of this stuff be happening everyday, and people only hear the smallest bit of it. You had heard about the bombing, but nothing else. 

Tony took a few hours telling you everything, and answering the questions you asked. It was getting dark by the time he was forced to leave, at least for a few hours to let you sleep, and so that the doctors could check on you. You had grabbed his hand as he stood to leave, and shook your head. “I’ll be right outside, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” 

With Steve now being a war criminal, you guessed that Tony was now your protector, at least for the time being. Like he felt guilty for causing Steve to be away when you were in danger. He hadn’t said as much, but from the way he explained what had happened, and how he had mentioned when Steve left, you assumed that it was on the forefront of his mind. 

You wanted to tell him that it was no one’s fault but your own, but the doctors had injected something into the line, and while it made your pain go away, it also forced your eyes to close, once more forced to sleep without your consent. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell, this is set at the time of Civil War, this chapter was re-written 10 times before I liked how this went. Hope that this makes sense!


	7. A Safe House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is discharged, and finally hears from Steve again.

You were discharged the following morning, with strict instructions to lay low and take it easy until the stitches healed. You had a pretty bad concussion, and a few bumps and bruises, but you were alive... somehow.

Tony gave you a ride home, letting you ride in the back of his car with his driver. He was on the phone with someone, making plans for something called “The compound’s” opening. You stared out the window holding your legs to your chest in an effort to get comfortable. You had a hard time, what with Tony staring at you like you might break half the time. He was driving you to some safehouse in the hills of upstate New York, and since he had basically told your professors that you were going to be attending class remotely, you didn’t have to worry about delaying your education a year, or losing the scholarship, though Tony said he’d pay whatever he had to if you had lost it. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You asked quietly, when Tony was off the phone. 

He looked surprised, not like he had forgotten you were there, you didn’t think Tony had the ability to forget when someone was around him, but more like he thought the answer was obvious. “Look, I messed up. I’m trying to make it better, as best as I can.” You nodded in response and he sighed. “He’d do the same for me.” He finished, and you furrowed your brow, but didn’t question him. 

The cabin was nice, the lake behind was quiet save for a fish or two jumping over the surface. It looked like it was barely used, but still very very nice. It was owned by Tony Stark after all. You placed your bag down on the table in the kitchen and walked through the back door and on to the back porch, leaning against the railing with your hip, Tony followed you out shortly after. 

“You can stay here until we find whoever targeted you. Until then,” He handed you a phone, but it wasn’t anything you had seen before. It was see through, and when you touched the screen it lit up and responded to your hand print. It was a Stark Phone. “Use this to call me, or Happy, or... well.. I don’t know, Pizza Hut.” He threw his hands up and then smacked them on his legs for emphasis. “There’s a computer upstairs, you can use that office space for class. Pick any bedroom you want, I haven’t...really spent time here in a while. Who knows, I might fix it up eventually.” He put his hand on the post beside him and looked at it fondly. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry that this is such a pain... I know its... not really what you would rather be doing.” You said awkwardly, but he brushed it off. 

"What would I rather be doing?" He asked with a quirk of his brow.

"Legitimately anything else besides helping a girl you barely know?" You replied sarcastically.

“Ever since I saw you in that drunk tank, I knew we would be friends.” He said with a lazy point and leaning on the post. 

“Why didn’t you tell Steve about that... you obviously recognized me when I walked in the tower the first time...” You said, putting the phone in your pocket. 

“That’s not my business to tell. But I did wonder if you knew Steve enough for him to ask to let you stay at the Tower, why didn’t he break you out that night.Then I realized that maybe you hadn’t called him, or told him, for a reason.” He shrugged. “That reason isn’t my business.” He regarded you carefully for a moment. “That’s a hefty fine... if you were living in your car like he said...” he trailed off as you shifted uncomfortably. 

“New York isn’t exactly a forgiving city for those of us with no way of making ends meet.” You said tiredly, and Tony nodded distantly, almost like an idea was buzzing in his head. Tony’s phone buzzed and he sighed.

“I gotta go. But.. if you need anything, ask.” He answered the call with a dramatic. “Yea.” And walked back through the house. 

It was going to be peaceful here, but lonely. Not that there wasn’t something to do. Tony had every streaming service imaginable, and whatever wasn’t there, he had downloaded onto his Tv. That, and you had your pick of gym equipment in the basement. 

You had just settled down to a campfire and a glass of wine when your phone buzzed. Thinking it was Tony, you answered it, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hey Tony, miss me already?” You said sarcastically. 

“I really gotta teach you to check your phone before answering it.” Steve’s voice came through the speaker and you coughed out the wine that you had taken a sip of. 

“Steve!” You looked around almost as if you were worried that someone would hear you, but you blushed, realizing you were 100% alone out here. “Are you okay?” There was an incredulous laugh on the other end of the phone. 

“Hey, that’s my line.” He said, and you smiled. You hadn’t heard from him in- apparently- a week, and you missed him. You had restarted your life, and he felt like a lifeline. 

“Steve I-” You had both started speaking at the same time, he laughed and told you to go first. “I am so sorry. For making you nervous, and... and getting caught... and I should have told you when you were on the phone that I was in trouble.” Steve was quiet for a second, and you worried that maybe he was angry. 

“What did I tell you about apologizing for things that aren’t your fault?” He didn’t sound annoyed, but stern. You bit your tongue to keep from saying sorry again. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t have a plan to protect you. I was so worried about making sure that Bucky was safe, that I completely neglected my promise to you.” You wanted to tell him that it was alright, but he was still going. “I promise you that I am going to protect you from now on. Starting with making sure you’re safe until I can come back.” He trailed off at that. 

“Yea, kind of part of the territory when you’re a war criminal.” You teased and you heard him push out a breath that sounded like a laugh. 

“I guess, kind of weird, going from America’s favourite soldier to being America’s most hated criminal.” He sounded sad, and tired.

“You know that I don’t believe any of this stuff. I don’t think you’re a criminal.” You waited in silence, and you took that as an invitation to keep speaking. “They put you in an impossible situation, one they don’t understand and then made you make an impossible choice. There is no precedent. After New York, after New Mexico, none of that shit makes sense. There’s no rulebook for people from other worlds coming down here. There’s no laws, or jurisdiction that makes sense. We are all scrambling for answers and you’re just the easiest scapegoat to find because it was televised.” You were almost yelling now and you heard your own voice echo across the water. 

“I’m glad someone thinks that way.” He said, and there was a car horn in the distance on his end. 

“I’d bet you a lot of people think that way...” You trailed off. “Where are you?” You asked quietly, it sounded like day time where he was, when it was near on 10 pm your time. 

“Not in America, and somewhere they can’t get me... for now.” He said cryptically. “I’ll be back soon, just making sure the others are safe.” You nodded but knew he couldn’t see you. 

“Come back soon, I miss you.” You startled yourself with the words, and you felt heat rise in your cheeks at the implication. 

“Yea... I... I miss you too.” He said honestly, and there was quiet. “I... I should let you go.” He said quietly, you didn’t want to hang up, knowing that the quiet was going to drive you crazy. “I’ll call you when I can, okay?” you responded with a quiet ‘okay’ and hung up the phone.

*~*~

Steve hung up the phone and looked around the busy streets of Dubai. There were thousands, maybe millions of people in Dubai, and it wasn’t uncommon to see an American tourist on the streets, and even more so to see an American Businessman talking on the phone, so Steve felt comfortable relaxing here in this cafe. There were no extradition laws to America from the United Arab Emirates and Dubai was known for its discretion... for the most part. 

It was just after 6 am, and the rest of the team was settling in to their hiding places. He had just dropped off Clint and Natasha at a safe house nearby, and he was on his way to one of Bucky’s to hole up until there was a way to secure a plane and landing strip in order to return to the states. Bucky knew where to go to get those things, and he had a contact in Yemen, so until then, Steve was going to wait. 

The Coffee he had ordered was placed on his table, and he thanked the waitress in broken Arabic that he had learned on the trip here in the first place. It wasn’t anywhere near it would need to be if he was going to stay here long term, but most in Dubai spoke English as well, so there was no fear of isolation. 

He couldn’t help but think about how much you would probably enjoy this. He smiled to himself, this was exactly where you had been talking about going. He remembered how your eyes lit up when you talked about how you were trying to learn the language to work at the American Embassy in Dubai. He made the decision then to buy you a kitschy snow globe or something, with the promise to take you there someday.

The thought hit him like a freight train. What was he thinking? Hadn’t you just gotten out of a relationship? Chances where that you wanted nothing to do with men for the time being.  _ But she sounded so excited when you were on the phone... and she said she missed you. _ He shook his head to rid the thought. It was just the adrenaline from the last few weeks. Intense situations bred intense feelings. It happened all the time in the war, and it was happening now.

He finished the strong espresso in one drink, gritting his teeth at the heat before slapping down a few Dirhams and leaving the table. He had no idea if it was too much, but he didn’t really care, money made no sense to him after 1942 anyway. The walk back to the safe house that he had secured for himself and Bucky for the time being was close by, but he stopped into a tourist attraction stop and began browsing absently for the perfect tacky gift. 

~*~

You stayed at the fire for a few more hours, watching the stars move over the sky, and then when the fire was nothing more than coals, you poured a bucket of water from the lake on it to extinguish it fully, before walking back to the house and picking a room to call your own. The room on the top floor, with the big A-frame window must have been the master, but it had a conjoined bathroom with a large soaking bathtub, so you decided to call it home for now. 

Part of you wanted to call Tony, just to have another voice in the empty halls, but it was late, and he was either sleeping, or drinking. Instead, you stripped off the clothes from the hospital and slid into the bath, hot water running over you and you sank into it. There were bruises on your arms and legs, and a big blue spot on your stomach, and it must have been where you had been punched multiple times. It hurt now that you saw it, and you hissed as the hot water hit it, soothing the pain. 

The bandages on your arm could come off in a few days, and the one on your head would be able to come off after a week or so. You had to change it everyday, but you didn’t think you could stomach doing it for a little bit, at least not tonight. 

As you soaked, you closed your eyes and tried to make sense of the missing time. Bits and pieces were starting to come back, flash images of places, people, voices. But nothing enough to make sense of anything. They had kept you drugged, so that would explain why you couldn’t really remember anything. Probably a good way to make sure you didn’t, but still talked. If they wanted information, they needed you awake, but not awake enough to risk running off. And even if you did, you’d look like a junkie. 

You dipped your head back in the water, careful of keeping the bandage dry, and washed your hair carefully. The motions calmed you, and you sighed deeply, washing the soap out of your hair. When you came back up,you felt better, but still confused. 

How could your life go so sideways, so quickly.  _ You said you wanted life to be interesting again... and being kidnapped after making friends with Captain America is interesting. _ You scolded yourself as you grabbed a towel and wrapped it around you, and another around your hair. 

Changing into sleep clothes, you busied yourself with the routine of getting ready for bed. It was so long since you had a place to yourself. Yes, you had the room at Avengers tower, but that felt more like a hotel, a temporary stay. This was permanent. Or at least, partially. 

The large California King bed spread out around you and you laid back on it, staring up at the ceiling and out the skylight. This was going to be a strange new way of life, but Tony had programmed a small drone like... thing to attend class for you, and all you had to do was sit at the computer and act like you were in class. It was a really amazing set up, because it did two things, it protected you, as no one could trace where the signal was coming from, so there was no worry about getting hurt, but also, it gave you the freedom to be in your own comfortable environment to study.

With the thought of class in the morning, and the sudden exhaustion from the day catching up to you, you fell asleep, the sounds of the forest around you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Casually changes the tags to include Mutual Pining*


	8. Too close to home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is settling in to the safe house, but an outing puts her in a hard spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! Sorry, so school has started up for me again (3rd year of college woot woot.) So I will try to update weekly! Enjoy this chapter and please please let me know how you think the story is going. 
> 
> Also, I don't know why the spaces between paragraphs is so big, but I'm too lazy to change it.... so.

“So, as you can see from the example here on the board, it isn’t hard to mistake manipulation tactics with tactics of persuasion. One can be easily distinguished by any human lie detector, while the latter is more often than not used in order to convince your target to follow your lead.” The class began packing up and the professor checked his watch, sighing. “Don’t forget your final presentation outlines are due on Canvas at 11:59 tonight!” He called after the retreating class. 

The drone shut off as it transited to the next class, and you took the moment to pull out the journal you had, and wrote in it. You had taken to writing down the small snippets of information you remembered as the days wore on. You had been taking class remotely for near on two weeks, and you had fallen into a sort of routine. Tony would holo call (which was insane), almost every night to check on you and get the “honey do” list as he called it. Whatever you needed was on your doorstep within the next day or so, and you were thankful for his help.

Tony was starting plans to move from Avengers tower to the compound that he had told you about previously on another holocall. The both of you found that you didn’t sleep much, so you’d spend hours of the early morning talking until one or both of you was finally tired enough to sleep. He had encouraged you to start recording your memories, and it was certainly helping. 

You would also call with Rhodey, and he helped you to recognize when you were going to have a panic attack, and helped you to understand that you were probably going to be living with the effects of the attack for a while. It was slow going, but it was easier now that you had a routine. 

As you were writing, your phone rang. You checked the number and smiled widely as Steve’s number appeared on screen. “Steve!” You said happily, and he called your name in a similar fashion, teasing you. “Shut up.” You teased back and sat back in your chair. “What’s up?” You said, kicking your feet up on the stool beside you. 

“I just wanted to talk to you.” He said with a happy tone, and you felt warmth bloom in your chest. He had done this a few times before. Mostly you had just texted, because it was easier for both of you, but he’d call when he could. You had figured out where he was due to when he would call, and the noises you could hear in the background, well, you could hear the language, and had a ballpark estimate. 

“What’s on your mind today?” You asked, twirling in the spinning chair. 

“I read the paper you sent me.” He said and you heard a door open and a bell ring, he was walking into a store. He greeted the store tender in Arabic and you smiled to yourself, both at the compliment and at the progress he had made with the language. You were both learning it together, but he was learning much faster with the emersion. “It’s... really good.” 

The paper was the basis for your final presentation for “Modern Problems: Diplomacy in the Real World” class. It was about the Sokovia Accords, and how the Avengers who had aided Bucky Barnes should be acquitted of all crimes under the unprecedented circumstances. “Well thanks, I was hoping you’d like it. Although my professor was a little skeptical of who my ‘source who wishes to remain anonymous’ was.” You popped a grape in your mouth as you clicked over to the paper and the outline you were finishing up for that night. Steve chuckled and you smiled again. 

“I’m sure it will make an interesting presentation. I can’t wait to hear it.” You sat up in your chair at that. 

“Does that mean you’re coming back?” You asked, pushing down the excitement as best as you could, but Steve probably heard it. 

“Its still up in the air, but I’m thinking we have our ride.” He had to be careful when he was talking, no saying who was listening. 

“When?” You asked, your voice quiet, like speaking too loudly would make it so that he could never come back. 

“Can’t tell you that doll, come on.” He had come to call you that recently, and you were starting to love it. It only came out every now and again, but you always knew that when he was really relaxed, he’d call you that. 

“Fine, but you gotta promise me that the second you land and are able to, you call me.” You ordered, looking back at the screen as the drone camera blinked, your next class was about to start. 

“Yes Ma’am.” He responded, laughing slightly. 

“Hey, my next class is about to start... I need to go.” You hated hanging up on him, it was like your life line was cut. You two had grown close, realizing that you were each other’s only remaining tie to normality. Or, as normal as having a Super Soldier for a best friend. 

“Alright, study hard. I’ll see you soon.” He said softly, the sound of the bell again indicating he was leaving the store. 

“Promise me.” You don’t know what made you say it, but in that moment it was the most important thing in the world that he promised you. 

“I promise.” He said, almost like a prayer. “I promise I’ll see you soon.” And with that, you said your goodbyes and you hung up the phone. As the camera blinked to life, and the classroom was shown to you on the computer monitor, you dragged a hand down your face. You had started talking to Rhodey about how you felt, and even though you knew it deep down, you didn’t want to admit that maybe you had started developing feelings for Captain America. 

Clint had even started texting you, isolation getting to him as well. You had really only met the one time at Avengers Tower, but he was fun to talk to, and he was just as lonely as you were. Everyone was locked away in their own safe houses, but Clint and Natasha had found other places to work for to keep from going crazy for the time being. Clint had just gotten back from a mission in Manila, Philipeans and he was telling you all about it (as much as he could of course), while you told him about what was happening state-side. 

You had talked a lot about his family, about his new baby, and you had assured him that he would see them all again soon. It had been a month since the Sokovia Accords and all the political madness that followed, and things were starting to die down as other, more trivial problems became more pressing to the American public. It was kind of nice, having all these people to talk to. And they probably thought the same of you.

You were just a normal person they could talk about normal things with. There was no Avengers stuff to talk about, you were just... you. And they could be human beings with you like they couldn’t with others. It was almost like you were a tether to the lives they had before, no matter how little they missed them. 

By 4PM you were done with class and decided to drive into town to pick up some groceries, and to grab dinner at the little Diner on the corner. It had become one of your favourite places over your time there, and when Tony told you that it was safe to go out past the secluded part of the woods your haven was in, you had nearly gotten a speeding ticket for how fast you drove the car. 

Of course it was an Audi, one of Tony’s ‘beater’ cars as he called it. You nearly smacked him through the Holo-phone when he said that, to which he only laughed, no doubt saying it to get that sort of reaction from you. 

As you drove down to town, you thought back on the first time you met Steve, and about what he had done for you since then. One thing in particular you thought about was the lack of Nathan. You knew that he probably wasn’t dumb enough to try to contact you, but Tony had told you that a quick search of records showed that Nathan had not only left you alone, but he left entirely. Sold the condo you shared, sold his car, and fucked off to British Columbia, Canada.

When you had questioned Steve about it, he told you exactly what he had said to Nathan to scare him so badly. 

_ “GO.” Steve pushed on his shoulder again, shoving the little punk the last few feet until he was far enough away from the door to the cafe. He turned to walk back inside but stopped as the little shit spoke.  _

_ “You won't be around to protect her forever.” He seethed, and Steve took a few short strides up to him before grabbing the front of his shirt and pressed him up against the brick wall behind him. He was a good 210 pounds, but that was easy work for Steve to lift him a few feet off the ground.  _

_ “Listen here you little punk. I have taken down whole armies on my own, I have fought with Gods, and murderous robots. Do you really think a little shit stain like you would scare me?” Steve almost laughed. “No, see you’re going to go home. You’re going to forget all about (y/n), and you’re going to get the hell out of New York. Because if I ever see your scrawny ass on my streets again, I’ll break every bone in your body one by one. Do you understand.” Nathan looked like he wanted to retort but Steve shook him, and pulled him back just to slam him back on the brick wall, knocking all the air out of him, literally and figuratively.  _

_ “There are only two answers to what I just said, you understand? There is one, ‘No’, which is going to bring up my plans a bit and send you to the ER a lot faster than originally anticipated, or ‘Yes Sir’, which is going to give you 48 hours before me and my friends come knocking.” He looked at Nathan pointedly, raising an eyebrow. “What’s it gonna be.” He demanded and the kid had good enough sense to nod.  _

_ “Ye.... yes sir.” He squeaked out, and Steve let him drop. He was running before he hit the ground. Steve turned and watched him go before walking back into the restaurant to make sure (y/n) was okay. _

You had laughed, nearly crying as Steve told you the story. You had never seen Nathan afraid of anything, that was one of the things you liked about him, but the idea of him sounding like he needed to go through puberty again was an image you wouldn’t soon forget. You had teased Steve, asking how long he had been waiting to use that line on someone. His response?

Since 1930. 

You didn’t like long distance friendships. You wished that you could see your friends as opposed to just hearing their voice. The holo-phone helped alleviate that distance slightly, but only if the other person had the ability to use it, which, most of your friends didn’t.

Farah, for example, only really had your phone number. You had called the shop to check on her, and she had nearly cried on the phone when she heard that you were okay. You realized that she had probably heard and seen the news reports of you going missing, and you sheepishly apologized for not calling her from the hospital. She had said something in Arabic, that you now realized was ‘Giving me- (something)’ you assumed it meant anxiety, or a heart attack. 

You pulled into the diner, not really realizing how you had gotten the hour into town so quickly, but happily pulled into a parking space and then entering the diner. It was pretty busy, and you sat yourself in the corner where you usually sat, and pulled out a book you were working on. The waitress smiled at you, and she knew what you always got so you didn’t even bother ordering. Only really looking up to smile and thank her for the drink she placed in front of you.

As time wore on, you watched as most of the patrons left after the dinner rush, and a few, very drunk men stumbled in from the bar next door. You rolled your eyes at the waitress, who looked just as bored at you as she felt about their advances. You didn’t think she had the heart to tell them that her wife was the cook behind the bar.

At that moment, a group of younger kids, probably 16-18 years old walked in, actively talking about something that all of them seemed very passionate about. You didn’t pay much mind until they sat across from you in the booth on the other side. “Did you hear that they are sending out a task force to find them? I mean... they claim these people are criminals.” One said. Never one to miss out on politics, you put your book down and looked at them over the rim of your glass, picking at your meal. 

“Criminals? Are you kidding me? Would criminals risk their lives on the daily to protect us?” Another said turning to look down at her phone, she must have been looking up the article they were talking about. “I mean, look at what it says: ‘Secretary Thaddeuss Ross released a statement later today claiming that any with information of the whereabouts of Captain Steven Rogers, or others from his terrorist group to come forward, or be found as an accomplice to their crimes and tried as such’... are they fucking kidding? We should be thanking that guy, not threatening them with imprisonment because some white collar ass hat got scared.” The third of the group spoke up at that. 

“I mean I understand the need for government oversight, but there is nothing we can do here. No precedent. This isn’t an earthly threat list anymore... I mean.. The dude with the horns... what was his name?” The first informed her while scrolling to read more of the article. “Right, Loki, whatever, I mean... that dude had a legitimate magic scepter... like... what the fuck, right?” The group laughed, and you found yourself laughing as well, quietly turning back to your book. You would have to tell Steve that the new generation had his back. 

The kids continued their conversation, and you listened as you read more of your book “Dynamics of Diplomacy”. All was well until you heard a commotion at the bar, and you turned to see one of the drunk men angrily staring at the table of kids. You felt your stomach clench and the hair on your arm stand up. You knew that stare. You knew the face of hate when you saw it. “Will you dumbass motherfuckers shut your goddamn mouths? None of you know what you’re talking about, all this liberal bullshit is what put us in this position in the first place. Y’all should know your place and stay out of it.” The diner went silent. 

His friends at the bar were shaking their heads, trying to appear small and pay the bill in order to take him out of the situation, the kids at the table looked pale, and nervous. You were furious. You slowly closed your book, ready to move if needed. “I’m sorry sir, are you seriously saying that limiting the power of our planet’s best defense is the right way to go about this?” One of the girls had some guts, you’d have to give her that.... But debating with a drunk man? May as well have put the noose around your argument and let it go. 

“I’m saying that your generation should have been the ones killed in New York. Not mine.” Ahh, there it was. The root of the problem. This guy blames the Avengers for his friend’s death. 

Rule one of Diplomacy... there is no negotiating with grief. 

You stood at that, standing between the group of kids and this man. “Sir, I think you’ve had enough tonight. You should go home.” You recommended forcefully, watching him carefully. 

“Oh, let me guess, you’re one of the ones who supports those terrorists.” He slurred, standing, you stood your ground. 

“Sir,go. Home.” You said again, pointing to the door. 

“I bet you’re just bitter that the Avengers didn’t save your wife, Murray.” You closed your eyes and took a breath, glaring over your shoulder at the kid who spoke. He shut up instantly, shrinking back into his seat. The drunk man surged forward at that and you put your hands on his shoulder, trying to push him back.

He threw a fist, but you dodged it, using his momentum to trip him and bring your knee to his stomach, bringing him painfully, but not critically injured, to the ground. It was effective at stopping people in their tracks, but letting them avoid a trip to the E.R.

“Look, Murray. I don’t pretend to know who you lost, or how your heart must hurt, but you need to go home. Sleep it off. This isn’t going to bring them back.” You hissed down at the man on the ground. His friends picked him up under the arms and nodded once to you. He won’t remember this in the morning, but he will feel it. 

“As for you,” You said turning to the kids at the table. “Pick your battles. You can’t fight for justice by using people’s grief against them.” You said dangerously, before grabbing your book and tossing a 20 on your table. 

The diner was silent as you left, the bell on the door dinging loudly as you stormed out to the car. You wiped at your face and felt hot tears on them. 

No, no one can really know what anyone lost in New York. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration for this chapter is from the song "Say Something" by Justine Timberlake. So ya.


	9. A Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader regrets drinking too much

The pounding on the door echoed the pounding in your head and you groaned as you sat up, bottles of expensive liquor clinking against each other on the floor. You pushed through them and stumbled to the door, hand blocking out the light. You didn’t bother checking the peephole, but opened the door anyway. “I thought I made it very clear that you staying here was conditional on you NOT making a scene.” Tony’s voice made you roll your eyes and turn away from him, walking back toward the couch as the room spun. 

“What are you talking about. I didn’t make a scene.” You groaned, your voice feeling like gravel. You pushed the bottles off the couch and face planted into it, Tony followed close behind you. 

“Oh? Really? FRIDAY. How many views does that video have?” He called into the roof and you covered your head with a pillow. His voice was so damn loud. 

“Current view count on ‘Girl beats the crap out of drunk’ is 6 million views.” You sat up, turning to look at him when he came around the corner. 

“What?” You pulled out your phone, but the light hurt your head and you put it down. 

“Are you drunk?” He said, stopping in his tracks. 

“No, I  _ Was  _ drunk. I’m currently hungover.” You reached for a bottle figureing being drunk is bettter than being hungover. Before you could bring it to your lips, Tony snatched it from your hands. 

“I think you’ve had enough.” He said rather loudly and you winced.

“Can you keep your voice down?” You groaned, pressing your head to the arms of the couch. 

“NO, I CAN’T.” He said, purposefully yelling and you threw a pillow at him. “What the hell got into you? You can’t just go around picking fights with random guys at a bar.”

You stood up at that and moved into the kitchen, parched mouth dying for a glass of water. “I wasn’t looking for a fight.” 

“Oh really? Bruce Lee?” Tony followed you into the kitchen. “Look, I may not know you from adam, but I know you probably wouldn’t go around just beating the shit out of people for no reason. So what did that guy say that had you kicking the crap out of him?” You poured yourself a glass of water, chugging another before responding. 

“He was yelling at some kids and I was scared he was gonna hurt them, so I brought him down before he could.” Tony produced a bottle of advil from the cupboard and a bottle of Pedialyte from the fridge. You took them from him gratefully and swallowed the pill and sipped the electrolyte drink.

Tony was quiet for a long while and you stared at your feet. He was right. You had put not only yourself in danger, but also Tony. No one knew that this place was here, so if anyone had followed you, the safe house would be swarmed by paps come lunch. Speaking of, your stomach growled and you looked at the time. “Holy shit. It is not 4 PM.” You breathed. You must have drank yourself into the early morning, then slept until the evening. 

“Look, I’m not an expert, but generally people don’t drink themselves into a coma unless something is bothering them... you wanna talk about it?” Tony said quietly. You looked at him and made eye contact, an unspoken conversation between the two of you had Tony nodding, and moving towards the phone on the wall. The jarringly low-tech phone was very out of place in the home. You stared at it, and Tony just shrugged. “Harder to bug, harder to trace.” He then pulled a take out menu from a basket and you left him to the order, not really caring what you ate. 

Deciding to shower to try to clear your head you grabbed your phone where you had left it beside the bed, you scrolled through the notifications. A few texts from Farah, and you smiled as you responded to the pictures she sent you. Her granddaughter in California had just gotten married and she had sent you the pictures from the service. You sent back “Alf Mabruk” Arabic for ‘thousand congratulations’, and she sent back a smiling emoji, followed by probably a million hearts. 

There was a missed call at 3 am, and you felt your blood run cold. “Please tell me I didn’t drunk text anyone.” You said allowed, closing your eyes against the shame. 

“Don’t worry, I made sure that no messages or calls were able to leave your phone last night.” FRIDAY said, her voice startling you. “I also alerted Mr.Stark about your over consumption of Alcohol... sorry.” You sighed. You had to give her credit, she may be an AI, but she knew how to out human humans. 

“Did I try to...” The clearing of a throat... which was odd coming from a robotic voice in the sky... confirmed your suspicions and you just nodded. “We don’t have to talk about it. I want to shower.” You mused, moving into the bathroom to do just that. 

  
  


Tony called you from the room as the food arrived, and you walked down the stairs towleing off your wet hair. The oversized t-shirt and short shorts covered your bathing suit as you had planned on going into the hot tub after you ate. You sat down on the table in the sun room and Tony had changed out of his nicer casual suit and was into jeans and a T-shirt. 

“So,” Tony started, and you raised an eyebrow, mouth stuffed with Lo Mein. “You took that guy down with a knee to the groin? Cold.” He said smirking.

“Technically it was a shot to the stomach.... Knock all the air out of his lungs and he loses the ability to say stupid things.” You shrugged. “Used it a lot at college parties, frat guys don’t really understand that a belly shirt isn’t an invitation to put his hand on my waist.” Tony nodded and raised a fork as a toast. 

“Can’t argue with that logic.” Tony looked out over the lake. “So, uhm.. I wanted to thank you.” He said quietly, playing with his food. 

“Thank me? For what?” You asked, reaching for a spring roll. 

“FRIDAY told me what you said... you know... during that fight... How you were defending those kids because they were defending us.” He said awkwardly. Technically, they were defending the other team, but you understood his meaning.

“You aren’t a criminal Tony, no matter what those people said... they have no idea what it was like in New York that day...” You caught Tony’s eyes and a sense of understanding dawned on him.

“You were there... weren’t you?” He asked, and you nodded.

You both sat in silence for a while longer before Tony had to leave to go back to New York. With a hug and an order to stay out of his liquor cabinet, he left you on your own again. You returned to the sun room and eased yourself into the hot tub, putting a show on the TV as you relaxed. The greasy food had steadied your head and you felt a thousand times better, you had just reached for another wonton when there was a rustling in the bushes and you froze. 

“FRIDAY, do you hear that?” You asked aloud, slowly pulling yourself up from the hot water, and reaching for a towel. 

“I have no threat indicated on my interface. Quite possibly a raccoon or other woodland animal.” She responded, just as the bush moved substantially this time.

“A big fucking raccoon...” You muttered, grabbing a pool staff to use as a weapon against whatever was about to pop out from the bushes. A million thoughts ran through your mind. Could it be Nathan? The guy from the diner? The guy from the train? 

You swung the pole as the figure stood and yelled out a scream as it startled you. The pole connected with his shoulder and he fell to the ground, out of surprise or pain you didn’t know but you raised your arms to swing again as he called out to you. 

“(Y/n)!Shit! It’s me!” Steve’s voice pushed from below you and you stared down at him, pole still held above you ready to attack. 

“Steve? What the...” You were about to scream at him but he looked up at you and smiled a big dumb smile as he said ‘surprise’ quietly. You instantly dropped the pole and ran into his arms as he sat up holding him tightly. You buried your face into his shoulder and noted that he smelled like Tunisian coffee and tobacco smoke. You knew he didn’t smoke, but you didn’t doubt that he had spent time in a Hookah bar. 

He sat up more after that, holding you tightly against him. It had been over a month and a half since you had seen him, maybe two at this point, and you realized that until now, he had no confirmation that you were actually safe. Of course he could talk to you on the phone, and no doubt had reports from Tony, but he was a very tangible man, unless he saw it himself, he didn’t believe it. 

You felt the hot tears fall before you could stop them and you thanked whoever was listening that he was wearing a leather jacket and couldn’t feel them. You pulled away, wiped the hair from your face (and the tears with it) acting as if they were water from the pool. “What the HELL are you doing sneaking around outside of the cabin at this time of night!” You smacked his shoulder and he leaned back, propping himself up on his hands as you crossed yours over your chest. 

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt your spa time?” He snarked and you looked down to see that the towel had fallen from your body leaving you nearly straddling him in just a swimsuit, a very revealing one as you had only really thought you would be alone- and dammit you deserved a little self pampering. You quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped yourself in it, glaring at him as you pushed on his chest and stood up. 

“Yes, you did.” You replied haughtily. “I told you to call me.” You said as you turned back to the deck and climbed the stairs, Steve standing and following you. 

“I did... last night.” He said leaning against the pillar beside him as you shrugged on a T-shirt and turned off the TV. You furrowed your brows and looked at him, then closed them and let out a breath. 

“Right...” You shook your head, not seeing the look he gave you. “I uh... was busy... last night.” Steve cleared his throat and looked down, shifting his weight. You stuttered, shaking your head. “No! Not.. like that... I uhm.” You face heated up and you turned away reaching for the door. “Never mind.” You mumbled, leading him into the house. 

Steve followed as you walked into the kitchen, pulling something out of his pocket as he did. “So, as an apology for leaving and not telling you where I was, or where I was going, I got you something.” He said, almost laughing to himself. You turned to look at him as you put a jug of water back in the fridge that you had left from dinner with a raised eye brow.

On the counter he produced the ugliest looking snow globe you had ever seen. It was about five inches tall, and bright pink, with a comically bad camel in front of a palm tree, with the word “Dubai” written in a horrible font, with the D shaped to look like the Burj Al Arab Jumeirah. It was the ugliest thing you had ever seen, and you loved it. You rushed over to it, mouth dropped and eyes welling with tears. You picked it up gingerly and examined it closely. 

“I... I hope you like it... I had no idea what you would like, but I wanted to make sure that I got you something, and this made me think of you... so...” He trailed off, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He did that when he was nervous, or unsure, he did that a lot around you...

“Its... so ... UGLY.” You said with the biggest smile on your face as you looked up to him, he looked caught off guard and almost like he was going to apologize, so you quickly wrapped your arms around his waist, holding your new prize in your hands. “I love it.” 

With a sigh of relief, Steve returned the hug, leaning his head down to rest on yours. “I was so scared for you.” He said after a moment, and you held on to him tighter. 

“Ditto.” You said quietly. 

You stood there for a moment, not moving, barely breathing, if only to remind each other that you were both safe, and that now that the other was there, you could make sure they stayed safe. It was like finally grabbing each other during a storm. 

“I’ll take you there some day. You’d love it.” He said as you pulled away from each other. 

“I want to hear all about it,” He gave you a look, one with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I guess, all that you can tell me. Did you get to do anything fun?” You moved to the coffee pot, pouring a mug for yourself, and one for him. You passed the black coffee to him and poured cream and sugar into yours. 

You hopped up on to the counter and held the coffee cup in your hands to warm them. Steve leaned against the adjacent counter and the two of you settled in to catch up, not really realizing that if either of you moved, you would probably touch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've never written a slow burn before, so I really want to have some feedback about whether this is moving too slow or too fast, or if you think that this story is getting stale... I'm trying to keep it interesting. Also, let me know how the chapter length is, is it too long too short or just enough. Thanks! See you all next week!


	10. A rough night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI IM SORRY! My parents came to visit me at university last weekend and I didn't have time to write. I'm also half in my bag so here, have an angsty, sad chapter. Trigger warnings for war depictions and a PTSD episode. 
> 
> Ever have one of those moments when you're like "Oh shit, Im not dealing with that as well as I thought I was." Yea... this is that.

The two of you decided to turn in early, Steve was tired from the long flight, and you were still dealing with a raging headache threatening to come back in the next hour. Steve chose a room down the hall from yours, and as you said goodnight and closed the door, a heavy sort of sadness and calm had crossed over you. 

Now that Steve was back, you hoped that you could go back to normal, but you knew deep inside that you couldn’t. It was mid October, almost two months since the Sokovia Accords and Steve’s exile, but that didn’t mean that he was out of the woods just yet. Anti-hero sentiment was growing all over the country, and was spreading to other parts of the world. The rest of the Avengers had found safe houses, a place to hide until it all blew over, but Tony was still very much in the public’s eye. You hadn’t taken long to figure out that that was probably why he was packing up shop and moving to upstate. Less cameras meant less stories, less stories meant less attention, and less attention meant that he could breathe properly for the first time since New York. You didn’t blame him. Avengers Tower was ground zero for the attack, you would want to get the hell out of dodge too. 

You laid in bed for a while, looking up at the stars as they passed over your skylight, moving slowly along the night sky. It was hard to think that only a few short years ago that sky was ripped open and hell rained down on the people of earth. Rhodey had been trying to get you to talk about that day a bit more recently, him stepping in as a pseudo therapist, but it was still hard. Who could possibly understand how that day felt? Anyone who was there, who saw it happen, most of them had left the city, and if they stayed, they stayed quiet. 

It was an eerily familiar feeling to eleven years before. You remembered what your mother had said when the skies first opened... “New York has been attacked before, and just like before we will remain.” You sat up in bed at that, your mother’s voice echoing in your head. You pressed on your head, willing the noises to stop, but you knew better, when the dams opened, you were better off just letting the tears come. 

You stumbled out of the room, choking the sobs back as you passed Steve’s door, pressing your hand over your mouth as you steadied the breath. As soon as you had passed, you leaned against the wall, trying to find support as you gripped your stomach, willing the roiling to stop. You hated how quickly this overtook you every time, like fire catching on dry grass it enveloped you. 

You wanted to scream when you opened the bar and it was empty. The previous night came back in a rush and you rolled your eyes at your own stupidity. You tried to drink away the memories, which always seemed to work before, but last night it was all you could think about. Probably because your younger sister’s birthday was at the end of the week... at least, it would have been. She would have been 16. 

You grabbed an empty bottle and threw it. Instantly regretting it. You held your breath, waiting for the sound of Steve coming down the hall but there was only silence. Instead you slipped down the wall beside you and screamed silently into your hand. 

Worrying about Steve had pushed the memories down, that was a real, tangible thing you could hold on to, there was someone with a heartbeat, with breath in their lungs on the other side of that phone. But now he was here, and they weren’t, and all you could do now was remember. 

A pair of arms slid around you, holding you tightly. “Breath with me (Y/n), in and out. You need to breathe.” Steve said quietly, startling you and you struggled out of his grasp, the room suddenly feeling very very small. He didn’t let you go, instead, he held tighter, shifting his weight to hold you against the wall slightly. “Hey, Listen to me, now. Breathe.” He ordered quietly and you felt your chest tighten, then release. You took in a deep breath and he shushed you as you let your breathing even out. 

You came down from the panic attack, and after a few deep breaths you broke into sobs. Steve released his grip slightly, but turned you in toward him, and you burried your face in his chest. His hand rested on the back of your head and slowly stroked down to your back and then repeated the motion, his chin resting on the top of your head. 

As you calmed down, you realized that he was humming something. It was an old song, almost forgotten in the times since it’s conception. It had to be from the 30s, maybe earlier you didn’t know the words, but you let him rock you back and forth while he hummed it. You didn’t think he knew the words either, but it was something important to him. 

When he stopped humming, you pulled away from him and wiped at your eyes. “Sorry”, you said quietly, “Did I wake you?” You asked, moving to stand. 

“Have you ever talked to someone about this?” He asked, dodging your question. “About your PTSD?” He said with clarification as you walked away from him and back to the couch, reaching for a glass of water from before. 

“I don’t have PTSD.” You denied, taking a drink. “I never went to war.” You said with finality, sitting on the couch. Steve gave you a pointed look, and you shrunk under his gaze. He sat opposite you on the couch, giving you space, but not letting you out of the conversation.

“I went to therapy for a few months, but I hated how the doctor looked at me like I was broken, like I was something to fix. But how much can she care when she only sees me for a few hours a week.” You curled up in on yourself, holding your legs. After a few moments of silence, you continued. “I’ve been talking to Rhodey, but crying about it isn’t going to fix it, so why talk about it?” 

“No instead you just want to throw bottles around the living room.” Steve teased and you glared at him. “It’s okay... you know, that night that we met... I wasn’t there because it was a part of my daily routine. I couldn’t sleep. The memories of my old life, of the crash, of the people I lost... sometimes they overwhelm me and the only way to get out of it, is to hit something. To make the pain physical, because I can control that. It’s not something to be ashamed of.” You looked at your feet, picking at the hem of your shirt.

You were both running from something that night, but neither of you had thought to ask. Two broken souls trying to fight away the pain. “I uhmm...” you started, feeling the knot well in the back of your throat. “I lost my mother, and my sister that day.” You said finally. “We were hiding in a building... I don’t remember where, or maybe I don’t want to.” You heard Steve suck in a breath, but something told you that he was willing to listen. 

So you poured your soul out. You told him about how you were on the phone with your mom and sister as they were coming to visit you. You were going to meet them at grand central. You told him about how you heard the screaming as the portal opened, how you watched in horror as they came from the sky, you kept on the phone with your mother as she tried to get off the street, she was trying to keep you calm. 

Then you heard the explosions. You heard your little sister scream, heard the sound of glass breaking and crying. You screamed into the phone, begging her to answer. She just kept saying “Mommy, we have to go. We have to get up. We have to run.” There was the noise of the chitauri, and then a scream, and then nothing. 

You had prayed that they had gotten away, but you knew that they hadn’t. You told him about watching them fight, huddled in the corner of some building, waiting until it was over. You told him how you must have passed out because you were being woken up by soldiers, American soldiers, shaking you awake and helping you to your feet, the battle having been won. 

You told him about seeing your father, about filing a missing persons report for your sister and mother, and finally about being told that they had been killed and their bodies- or what was left of them- had been recovered. 

Steve was quiet, listening with a respectful solemness that made it easy to tell the whole story. Something you hadn’t done for a long time. That was close to four years ago now. Four years in May, and you had only just now told the whole story. You looked up at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. 

He looked up at you, and held out his hand. You looked at it warily and put your hand in his. He held you tightly, and you understood what he meant. It was a mutual understanding: “We will never understand exactly what the other feels, but we know we are not alone.” 

“Can you tell me about them?” He asked quietly after a moment. You nodded and dropped his hand. 

It was cathartic, telling him about your sister, and how she absolutely loved soccer, and how your mother was a translator for the Washington French Embassy. You told him about how your parents met when your father had tried to apply for a visa to work in France for a summer as a travel journalist. Your mother had heard him speak one sentence in French and had told him that if he even tried to speak in France like that he would never get anywhere. So she had tutored him, and by the end of his “classes” he asked her to come with him, and it was by the Seine that he proposed, only a few months after knowing her. 

Time went on, and you found that at some point, you had draped your legs over his lap, and he was resting his hands on your shins, absently drawing shapes on it as he leaned against one hand, watching you carefully, a small smile on his face. 

“What?” you asked, a small awkward laugh in your words. He shook his head and you gently kicked him. “What are you staring at, creep.” You teased and he smacked your leg in retaliation. 

“It’s just so good to see your eyes light up again. I missed listening to your stories.” He said almost shyly. 

“I told you all the dirt from my classes every time we talked, what are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes, breaking eye contact for a moment. 

“Sure listening to you talk about it is great, but your eyes light up when you talk about things that are important to you, and it’s so good to see.I would have to try to remember what it looked like while we were on the phone.” You sighed and mimicked his position on the couch, leaning on your arm. 

“Steve Rogers are you flirting with me?” You teased and for a moment, the silence was palpable as he looked at you. The two of you waited for the other to break the silence with bated breath. 

“And if I was?” He said quietly, his eyes drifting down to his hand on your leg, busying himself with the pattern he was drawing, not realizing the fire that suddenly followed the motion. 

“I’d say it’s about damn time.” You said just as quietly, and his eyes shot up to yours. The eye contact was intense, but Steve broke it a few moments later with a stupid grin and he rubbed the back of his head again, you smiled softly as he bit his lip. 

“I guess that means I gotta take you on a- a date and all that.” He said and you giggled. 

“Oh no, how horrible for you. I assure you I am amazing company.” you said and he laughed. 

“No doubt you are, can’t say the same for me though.” He teased and you rolled your eyes. 

“All else fails I can just drop you at the old folks home.” You said with a shrug and he made a pained face, and slapped his hand on his chest in a ‘you wound me’ motion. 

“That’s cold, ice cold.” He said with a pointed finger and you just raised your eyebrows and smirked, kicking him again. 

The two of you stayed up for a while longer, not really talking about anything in particular, mostly sticking to topics that you had glossed over in the early stages of your friendship: Music taste, favourite foods, stupid stories from your teenage years. It was comforting, knowing that despite the huge bomb that you just dropped on him, and the fact that he had all but just asked you on a date, and the fact that you had ACCEPTED, you could still joke and tease each other like nothing had changed, and you supposed, nothing really had changed, not yet at least. 

You don’t know who fell asleep first, but you woke up to your own room, and figured that Steve must have carried you into your bed at some point. You rolled over, grabbing your phone and saw a few messages on it you answered them, but stopped when you saw one from Steve. 

**Steve (Gym Guy):**

**I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you opening up to me last night. I hope you know you aren’t alone in any of this, and if you want to call sam, I left his number on the fridge, I’m sure he’d be happy to help. And about our date: Pick you up at 9. **

**Steve (Gym Guy):**

**Don’t worry, I’ll have you home by 11...**

**Steve (Gym Guy):**

**Or... maybe not.**

  
  


You giggled at your phone, shaking your head as you locked the screen and lazily looked at the clock. It was just after 11:30 am, and you sighed, rolling out of bed to make your way to the bathroom. Your body felt heavy, it always did after you cried that much, and yet, at the same time, it felt light, like you could float away if you really tried.The weight of the emotion still hung on you, but it felt like it was being held by something, or someone, else. A problem shared is a problem split in two after all. 

You stepped into the warm shower, putting on some music and sat under the hot spray, a small smile starting to grace your features. 

  
9 PM couldn’t come any slower. 


	11. A choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Steve go on that date.

Steve didn’t come back for the entire day, and you were beginning to feel a little nervous. For some reason, it felt really different this time. It’s not like you hadn’t hung out with Steve, it’s not like you hadn’t hung out with him in situations where it could have been seen as a date, but this was... different. Like you couldn’t really believe it was happening. 

You had been texting Farah all day, and she was almost more excited than you were. As you finished your hair, you had her on the phone, and she was talking excitedly. 

“Ahh  _ Habibti,  _ I knew! I knew it from the moment I saw you together that he would be yours.” She said after you had explained to her the previous night. 

“Farah, I’m scared.” You said honestly, feeling very very small.

“Why,  _ ya amar? _ What’s wrong?” She had started calling you that recently, it means “my moon” It was slowly becoming one of your favourite names.

“I don’t know, I just... I feel like I’m broken...somehow. He’s so perfect and I’m just... Me.” 

“ _ Hadha yukfaa!” _ She said sternly, and you sighed. “Enough of that!” she self translated, and you could almost see her shaking her head. “You are NOT broken. Get that nonsense out of your head.” She took in a breath, controlling her anger. “There are many of us here, those of us who remember the attack with every breath, but we are not broken,  _ ya hayati _ , we are not.” Silence hung in the air, and you felt the weight of her words. Farah had lost her husband and son in the attack, something she had only just recently told you. 

“I can’t help feel broken, Farah. I don’t think I’ll ever get the chance to be normal, not broken.” As you spoke, the doorbell rang, and FRIDAY announced that Steve was at the door.

“Sounds like your chance is at the door.” She said with a mystical breath. You looked down at the phone, and then over your shoulder, and down the hall to the stairs. 

“What if I fuck it up, what if I lose him before this even starts?” You asked, your voice sounding heavy and choked. 

“You won’t, (y/n). Because chances are, you’ve already got him.” She said goodbye and hung up the phone, leaving you to smooth down your dress and take a steadying breath. 

“Let him in FRIDAY, I’ll be down in a second.” You said quietly, and the sound of her voice from the main room alerted you to her doing as you said. 

Steve had told you to wear something comfortable, something you could walk in, so you had chosen a sweet baby blue dress that had a fitted bodice that wrapped up around your chest and over your shoulders. The skirt was long, brushing against your ankles and over the surprisingly comfortable ballet slipper heels. You were so grateful to Tony, telling you to go to town and buy a wardrobe, deeming the one from your car as “Not nearly enough for a singular human being.” He even sent Pepper with you to help you along, she had picked out the dress you were wearing, telling you that every woman needed at least one stunning gown. 

You checked yourself one more time, picking at invisible lint before taking another breath and turning the corner, gently grasping the handrail as you came down the stairs. 

Steve was wearing black slacks, shining black shoes, and a belt to match. His shirt was the same light blue of your dress and you silently laughed at the unintentional coordination. His hair was slicked back just the smallest amount, and you smiled to yourself as you imagined what he must have looked like in the 30s, he must have been a real stunner.  _ He still is. And  _ you’re  _ the one going on a date with him. _

As you reached the middle of the stairs, Steve looked up and his eyes lit up, a small shy smile curving his mouth as he stuck his hands in his pockets. There was an inaudible “wow” on his lips and you blushed, tucking a nonexistent strand of hair back behind your ear. 

Steve held out a hand to you, helping you down the last few stairs and you took it gladly, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “You look...wow.” He said quietly and you blushed, looking down to your shoes. 

“Not half bad yourself Rogers.” You quipped, and he huffed a laugh, turning to grab his leather coat from the chair behind him, and slinging it over his arm. You opted out of bringing a coat, the unusually warm fall evening making you sweat as is. He offered you his other arm once you were outside, and you took it, leaning against him slightly as you walked. 

You climbed into the back of the car, and smiled up at Happy. You extended a greeting to him to which he returned and smiled, before pulling out of the safehouse driveway and on to the highway. 

“You really do look amazing.” Steve said, turning to look at you. 

“Thanks, Pepper helped me to pick it out.” He smiled and you laughed not uncomfortably. “So, where are we going?” You asked, not knowing the direction you were heading. 

“You’ll see. Trust me, it’s going to be fun.” He said almost cryptically. You smiled, then nodded. You didn’t care if you went and stood in a field for an hour, you were just excited to be going out. You hadn’t really left the safe house in over two months, and even when you did you only went to the diner and back, sometimes trekking to the bookstore on the other side of town but not much farther than that. 

“Farah says hello, and sends her love.” You said after a moment, to which he beamed and laughed. 

“I didn’t think she’d remember me! How is she?” You launched into a story about her granddaughter’s wedding and the baby shower for her niece. Steve listened intently and looked enthusiastically through the pictures you showed him. 

By the time the drive was over, you didn’t even realize you had been driving for over an hour. Happy pulled up to an old saloon looking building, two stories and a slanted roof made it look older than it probably was. A warm light was coming from the porch wrapping around the old building, and a brassy tune filtered through the doorway as a couple walked out. 

The sign above the door read “American Veterans Association” and to the right of the door a bi fold sign read “Dance Tonight!” in old style writing. Your face lit up as Steve exited the car, as you stared. 

As you reached for the door handle, the door opened, and Steve held out his hand to you. You stared at it for a moment before smiling sweetly and gently resting your comparatively small hand in his warm one. He helped you out of the car and closed your door behind you, thanking Happy through the open window. 

As you watched the car roll away, Steve hooked your hand in his arm and lead you up the stairs to the door, smiling at the young man who opened the door for you. The flash of recognition on the man’s face made you nervous, but Steve just clapped the kid on the back and he smiled brightly. 

“Hey! Nick! How’s your grandfather?” Steve asked, stopping for a moment. 

“He’s doing a lot better Captain Rogers! You really helped him out, you have no idea how much that meant to mom and I, you gave him something to live for again.” He said, almost bittersweetly. 

“Well, tell him to give me a ring if he wants, he knows how to reach me.” Nick nodded and Steve clapped him on the back again before guiding you with a hand on your back into the room. You looked up at him and smiled at him quizically. 

“What did you do for his grandfather?” You asked curiously. 

“I paid to get his uniform fixed and put in a shadow box. I met him here one night and he just seemed... off. Got to talking, found out he served in the unit I helped free members from Hydra. He told me that he felt like no one cared about us, them...” You furrowed your brows but he continued. “His Grandson, Nick, is an eagle scout... well, he is now, and for his eagle project he wanted to repair his grandfather’s uniform. I helped him out and now,” Steve pointed to an older gentleman tapping his toes and clapping, in a very good looking uniform, sitting at a table, a bright smile on his face. 

You felt your heart warm and leaned your head against his arm, tightening your grip on his arm slightly. “That was a good thing, Steve.” He shrugged lightly.

“People like him did it for me. I can’t even begin to return the favour. They call me a hero, but every one of us gave something.” Your eyes drifted to a wall with pictures, faded by time but still recognizable as military photos. 

“Some of you gave everything.” You said quietly, as Steve followed your eyes, he returned the gentle squeeze. 

“Let’s get a drink.” The quiet words broke the calm nostalgia and you both walked up to the bar. Steve ordered an Old Fashioned and you a Mojito. As the bartender made your drinks, you leaned against the bar and watched the dancers. They ranged from the young, no older than 15 or 16, to 80s and 90s. Both moved with vigor as they swirled and danced swing to the jazz band. There had to be over 200 people, split between the tables, bar, and the dancefloor. 

“I’m not sure I know how to dance like this.” You said nervously to Steve as he handed you your drink. 

“It’s fine, you can get the hang of it really quickly.” He took a sip of his drink and visibly relaxed. You didn’t think he could get drunk, but you didn’t think that’s why he was drinking. If anything it was the motion, the taste, and the habitual remembrance of the feeling. A placebo of another time. 

The two of you left a tab open, and found a table to set your drinks on, as Steve led you to the dance floor. He brought you to the outside, far from the fast moving inner circle, and closer to the slow moving older generation. 

Steve placed your hand on his upper arm, and you thanked yourself for wearing the heels as otherwise you would have been reaching substantially over your head. At this point it was a comfortable angle. He then took your hand in his and smiled comfortingly. “Just follow what I do.” He said, before shuffling his feet in an easy step. Left foot out, little dip, feet together, up, out. You watched his feet a few motions, moving with him and soon you found yourself finding the rhythm of the song and the two of you moved easily. 

Soon you were giggling and Steve was smiling brightly. He lifted his arm and you easily ducked under, following the flow of the music and the example of the other dancers. Steve pulled you back and you laughed happily as you easily fell back into the dance. 

“You’re a natural!” He said, ducking you for another turn. You beamed at the praise.

“You’re a good teacher!” You exclaimed a little breathlessly as the song came to an end. An older gentleman came and tapped Steve on the shoulder, and he turned, smiling in recognition at the man. It was Nick’s grandfather. 

“Mind if I step in Captain?” He said, voice old but still full of life. 

“Not at all Sergeant.” Steve said, giving you a look of permission to which you nodded. An older woman excited took Steve’s hand and with a laugh the two of you went to your new partners as the next song started. 

You learned Nick’s grandfather’s name was Lucias Thompson, Sergeant in the US Army for world war two. He taught you a few more moves, called the “Around the world” and the “Basket Whip”. As you spun around the room, you would glance over to Steve, watching as he gently but lively danced with Lucias’ wife, Gretta. He had met her in Germany during his tour when he had been admitted into a hospital. Steve caught your eyes a few times and smiled brightly, silently asking if you were okay to which you beamed at him and ducked under Lucias’ arm again. 

You danced for the full song before you were pushed back to Steve and he to you by your respective partners. Nick met them as they left the floor and walked over to their table, kissing them both on the cheek while putting waters down for them. You smiled, but your attention was quickly taken by Steve grabbing your hand and starting another dance. 

The two of you danced for the next hour, laughing and fumbling every few seconds, but you were quickly making your way to the center of the room with the other, younger dancers. 

By midnight, much of the crowd had thinned out, leaving only a few older couples, but mostly the middle to younger ages, such as yourself remaining. The music switched from the fast paced swing to a slower, more intimate sounding ballads. 

Steve’s hand rested on your lower back at this point, and you rested your head on his chest, his chin on the top of your head as the two of you swayed to the music. You listened to his heartbeat, steady and comforting against your ear. His other hand rested on the back of your head and was slowly combing through the loose curls. 

“(Y/n)?” Steve said, and you heard the rumble of his voice through his chest, you looked up, with a Hmm? And he brushed hair out of your face. “I had fun tonight... thank you.” He said after a moment, and you almost thought he was going to kiss you, you wanted him to, it would be easy, you’d just have to press up a bit further...

“I had fun too, thank you for inviting me.” You said quietly, pressing your head back into his chest, wrapping your arms around him to hug him. He returned it, taking a steadying breath. You almost asked him why but he tilted your head up with a hand under your chin. 

“I want to show you something.” He said, taking your hand and leading you off of the dance floor, heading out behind the bar. Once your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw a large B-17 bomber, perfectly maintained, sitting up on stilts a few feet above the ground. Under it, was a blanket and small picnic, with string lights lighting up the ground around it. You smiled widely, tears threatening to fall. 

“Steve... this is...beautiful.” You said, looking up to him. He smiled and took your hand, leading you down under the massive plane. There was a lake just beyond the end of the property, and you had a perfect view of the chilly late october moon on the water. The two of you sat, and Steve pulled out a thermos, filled with hot chocolate. 

“I really do want you to know I’ve had a lot of fun tonight. And ever since I’ve known you you’ve treated me like a normal person, and I appreciate it.” He said quietly, as he handed you the cup. 

“You are a normal person Steve. I hope you know that.” You said, watching as he poured his own mug from the thermos. 

“People don’t see me like that, not like you do. They see me as Captain America, Captain Rogers, or as an Avenger, no one really ever sees me like... me... just... Steve.” He turned to you, and after a moment took off his heavy leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders, you hadn’t even realize you were cold. 

“Well, same goes for me I guess. You see me as smart, as... I don’t know, someone worth respect. I mean, you opened my door for me, made sure I was safe, and,” You shrugged your shoulders, indicating to the jacket. “I mean, people don’t do that kind of thing, not anymore... and not to people like me.” You pulled the warm jacket around you, and Steve draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his warm side. 

“What do you mean, people like you?” He asked after a moment and you leaned your head against his chest. 

“I guess, well... I stayed with my old boyfriend,” your eyes widened, but Steve didn’t react to your words. “I stayed with Nathan because I was scared that no one else would want me. I’d been with him since high school and I guess I just never really...” you shrugged. “I don’t know, I just have never been treated like I really matter. Nathan stopped going on ‘dates’ right out of high school and he really just wanted a quick fuck and then to sleep.” You bit your tongue, apologizing quietly. 

Steve didn’t mind, instead he sighed, adjusting his hold on your shoulder. “You know, I didn’t really get to say much about your paper, but I really do think it was amazing. You might be able to change people’s mind about us, I mean, you’ve seen first hand what we do.” He said resting his chin on your head. “I really think you should send it in to someone.” 

You sat up, looking up at him with furrowed brows. “What do you mean? Who?” Steve looked nervous.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend.” He said quickly to which you shrugged him off, urging him on. “Well, I guess there’s a meeting being held at the United Nation in New York next month, and Tony is trying to build a case for our exoneration, but no lawyer will help him, no one wants to support a losing case. But with a testimony like yours... you could make a difference.”

“What about what Tony said... about my safety? That’s the whole reason I’m here.” You said, indicating to the surroundings, and their lack of light pollution.

“Tony would be there to protect you, and Natasha, and T’Challa...” He listed off letting you fill in the rest. 

“I want you there to protect me.” You said quietly, and he sighed, holding you tightly. 

“Doll, you know I would if I could.” He said, mimicing your tone. 

You thought for a moment, pulling your phone out of your pocketbook and staring at the screen before tapping with determined and forceful punched on your phone, before locking the screen and pushing it back into your pocket. Steve looked at you curiously, his hand drifting down your arm. 

“What was that about?” He asked with a small laugh.

“I figure I should send my testimony to Tony for him to look over so he isn’t blind sided when I testify for you guys.” You said nervously, yet with vindication. 

“What?” He asked excitedly. “You’ll do it?” You met his eyes and nodded seriously. He smiled brightly, your eyes softening.

The two of you stared for a moment, leaning in slowly. Just as your lips began to connect, a horn honking drew both of your attention. Happy was waving from the parking lot and you both coughed awkwardly as you pulled away. 

Steve stood first, then extended his hand down to you, helping you up. You pulled the jacket on your shoulders closer around you as Steve helped you up the small hill to the parking lot and into the car. 

In your pocket, your phone buzzed. A Text from Tony.

**Tony (Drunk Tank Guy):**

**Are you sure you want to do this? Because if you do, you could really turn the tides on the whole conversation, but once you do this, there’s no going back. Sleep on it, I’ll call you in the morning. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! I'm so sorry I've been MIA. I had a total meltdown a few weeks ago with my roommates basically making my apartment unlivable, and I've been really depressed since then. So, to make up for it, here's an extra long chapter. 
> 
> On that, I'm FINE. I'm just trying to make it through the semester.


End file.
